


Graceless

by viksherenqueer



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blow Jobs, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Named Dadsona (Dream Daddy), No Cult Ending, Past Infidelity, Polyamory, Post- Robert's Good Ending, Recovery, Slow Burn, Trans Author Writing Trans Character, Trans Dadsona (Dream Daddy), Voyeurism, adding new tags bc things are getting nsfw lmao, also damien and mary are siblings bc i love that headcanon, and hes friends with mary and joseph and wants to help, at least in this chapter, dadsona is dating robert but he finds out about past roseph, joseph has his own demons but they arent literal demons in this lmao, joseph isnt a bad person, on a toy tho, the saddest handjob in existence, theyre gonna be one big happy poly family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 87,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viksherenqueer/pseuds/viksherenqueer
Summary: "Because we were all happy. We were all happy until Joey decided that it wasn’t perfect enough for him. It wasn’t the clean-cut, picture-perfect slice of life that he forced me into and he had to go and ruin it. All of it. Robert is the only piece of Marilyn I have left and Joseph fucked him over. So yes, Iblamehim." There are hot tears in Mary's eyes, streaking dark marks of eyeliner down her cheeks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> look. im just here to fix everything ok. i am picking up the pieces of joseph and mary's marriage and i cant glue a vase back together but dammit if i cant mix that broken glass with other pieces of glass and make a mosaic. 
> 
> for timeline purposes, im saying that amanda and dadsona moved into the cul-de-sac in january 2017, she finished high school in june, went to college in late august. dadsona is named vik but has no physical description. he is trans (i am trans), but i wanted to keep his physical description kinda vague so people could put in their own dadsonas. 
> 
> this chapter contains a barbeque, a tea party with the twins and damien, and a series of texts that lead to calling robert daddy.

_Saturday, September 16th, 2017_

The stick bounds across the lawn and clonks against the rough asphalt of the cul-de-sac. Betsy wastes no time, her little legs moving faster than the speed of light. She’s in the street, scooping the stick up into her mouth and growling playfully. She turns to run back towards Vik, sticking her butt up in the air and wagging her tail. She growls as he tries to take the stick, gripping it gently and playing a small game of Tug of War. 

“You are too cute for your own good,” Vik coos at her, kneeling down and scratching her ears. She leans in to lap at his face, tail wagging so furiously that he wonders if dogs can get whiplash.

It’s mid-September, summer slowly beginning to fade out as the days grew shorter and cooler. The trees had only begun to start changing color; mostly green trees gaining yellow patches. A cool breeze dusts through the neighborhood, bringing with it the scent of charcoal and cedarwood. 

Vik would be lying if he said he was excited for the barbeque. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see everyone. His neighbors were great, and he was thankful that he had the privilege of living in such a nice area with good people. But…

Socializing was exhausting. It had always been that way, from the time he was a teen. He had been able to cope with it, though. Alex and Amanda had always provided a good amount of human interaction and kept him on track. After Alex passed, Amanda had taken up the role of keeping her father in check. She knew how to motivate him, and he had purpose. He had a reason to get up in the morning, to cook and eat meals, to shower regularly and keep the house clean. Amanda had been that reason.

But now she was gone. She had left at the end of August, and while Vik had mostly kept it together while she was leaving, the second she was actually gone broke him. He had assumed it was just a slump, really. That maybe he’d have a few bad days, stay in bed too long, wear the same clothes, forget to eat, and cry a lot while watching reality television. But it was going on three weeks now, and he wasn’t feeling any better. 

It was awful. His house was empty for the first time in his life. He had been a child, a roommate, a husband, and a parent for all of his life. He didn’t know how to just exist amongst himself, alone with his own thoughts and feelings. 

He knew that getting out would be for the best, but it was exhausting. He had showered earlier that day for the first time in eight, and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed. He had eaten some toast and fed Betsy, and had made a face at the messages in his inbox on DadBook.

Joseph: Howdy, neighbor! I’ve knocked on your door a few times but haven’t gotten a response. Haven’t seen you leave your house much, either. Hope you’re doing alright. Anyway, I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m having a barbeque today and you’re welcome to come! ~Joseph  
Joseph: Also, if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. I am a counselor after all, so I might be able to help!

_It’ll be good for you _, Vik tries to remind himself. Talking to everyone, eating something that didn’t come out of the microwave or by the hand of a delivery person. Plus some sunshine. Betsy was all for the midnight walks, no doubt Robert’s doing, but it wasn’t exactly the healthiest habit.__

__A quick glance at his phone tells him that the barbeque starts in ten minutes, so he steps down off his porch. “C’mon, girl.” He waves for Betsy to follow along, making his way across his lawn and into the Christiansen’s. Avoiding the front door, Vik opts for the back gate and steps into the back yard. Mary is setting out napkins and utensils, Joseph is spreading the charcoal in the grill around so it continues to burn, and Damien is knelt in the grass with the twins cupping a small, plastic teacup._ _

__“Hey!” Joseph calls when he sees Vik, waving him over. Mary gives him a little salute from her spot, flashing a quick grin. “It’s good to see you. I was getting worried.”_ _

__“Sorry,” Vik mutters, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “Guess I just haven’t been in a good way since Amanda left. It’s weird living alone.”_ _

__“I can’t imagine,” Joseph says, his voice quiet and his eyes softening. His hand comes up, fingers resting gently on Vik’s shoulder. “I’ve always had a big family. A full house. I went about a year on my own after college, and well… It was enjoyable at first, but it wears on one quickly.” His thumb gently strokes over Vik’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there. “As your friend Vik, I want you to know that I am always just a phone call away, okay? You are always welcome in my home if you are feeling lonesome.”_ _

__“Thank you, Joseph.” Vik gives him a little smile, feeling the first sense of relief since Amanda left. Getting out and talking to everyone was a good idea. Sitting at home for days on end had a way of making a person feel less and less real, but being able to talk to a few people would be grounding._ _

__Joseph’s gentle gaze hardens after a moment. Vik opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but then fingers are clasping on his shoulders. A quick glance reveals slender fingers squeezing Joseph’s in a way that… Seems a little threatening, if Vik is being entirely honest._ _

__“Joey, I’m going to steal Vik for a little while.” Mary chimes from behind Vik, and he can hear the fake smile and hint of spite in her voice. She begins to pull the man backwards with her and away from Joseph._ _

__“You’re scaring him, Mary.” Joseph complains, jaw tense and voice straining to keep an even tone._ _

__“He likes being scared,” Mary chimes, snickering a bit as she swaps positions so she can push Vik from behind. She leads him over to where Damien and the kids are. “Dames, my darling baby brother, be a sweetie and forgive Vik for being late to the tea party. He is exhausted from his long, tireless journey, kids. So don’t be dicks, okay?”_ _

__“Yes, mommy.” The twins reply in unison, Christian moving to grab Vik a teacup. Christie turns to pour some red liquid from their plastic teapot into the cup, before sliding it towards Vik. He takes a seat in the grass next to Damien, staring at his drink for a moment. He’s a little nervous to taste it, but a quick sniff alleviates his anxiety. Cherry Kool-Aid._ _

__“You see,” Vik starts, smiling towards the twins. “I, Vik the Valiant, had a little run-in with The Spider King on the way here.”_ _

__“Oh no,” Christie mouths, eyes widening in horror. “I don’t want him to get me!!”_ _

__“Don’t worry, my fair princess.” Vik grins at her. “I foiled his evil plot to capture you, yet again. And as your loyal knight, I have sworn to protect you.”_ _

__Christie seems soothed by his words, nodding eagerly and taking a sip of her drink. “I don’t like spiders.”_ _

__“Spiders are cool.” Christian says, earning a little elbow from his sister. He pinches her in return, and Damien tsks at them to make them cease._ _

__“So, Vik the Valiant.” Damien takes a sip of sugary liquid from his cup, before returning it to its tiny matching plate on the plastic table. “I believe we have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. I am Viscount Damien Bloodmarch.”_ _

__“Why, the pleasure is all mine Viscount Bloodmarch.” Vik gives a playful little bow, unable to not smile over this silly little game. It reminded him of playing house with Amanda when she was younger. Although, it wasn’t nearly as conventional. Amanda always wanted to play as the dog._ _

__Mary comes over, placing a little plate of Oreos on the table. “Shh, don’t tell daddy I’m pumping y’all full of sugar.”_ _

__“Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye. Wait a moment; I spoke a lie. I never really wanted to die. But if I may and if I might, my heart is open for tonight. Though my lips are sealed and a promise is true. I won’t break my word, my word to you.” The children chant in unison, staring at their mother with glazed over eyes. And then, suddenly, both children broke the gaze and quickly began reaching for the cookies to gobble them up. It was so easy to forget that these two were just little kids when they got all creepy like that. Vik blamed all the horror movies he’s seen._ _

__“Vik, help me out, would ya?” Mary finally says, heading back towards the sliding glass door right off the side of the patio. Vik excuses himself, informing them to simply yell if The Spider King rears his ugly head. Then he's off, following Mary inside._ _

__The Christiansen house was always bizarrely crisp and domestic in appearance. Like it was designed to be a front page spread on Better Homes & Gardens. Shiny wood floors, clean white walls, small little sailboat designs along the upper edge of the base molding. Nautical décor covers the walls and empty surfaces, scattered amongst family photos. Most of the furniture looks homemade as well. Vik notes little pencil lines on the trim along the kitchen archway, where the height of each of their children was being monitored. “I always forget how beautiful this house is,” he comments softly, remembering the chart at their old house where all of Amanda’s growth spurts had been marked. _ _

__“I would like to redo the kitchen,” Mary admits, setting a few plates donning saran wrap on the kitchen island from the fridge. “And dump some of this nautical garbage. Maybe some more color. A girl can only handle white and blue for so long.” She waves her hand off to her side, indicating a large, keg-styled cooler. “Carry that out, would ya? I’m not going to break another fucking nail on the damn thing.”_ _

__Vik snorts, but heads over to assess the weight of the cooler. Definitely heavy. He heaves a sigh, carefully wedging it into his arms and leaving the kitchen. The strain is manageable, but only for so long. He’s thankful that he left the glass door open, able to carry the cooler over to one of the tables that had been set up. A mess of solo cups have already been stacked up nearby, so he moves them closer to the cooler._ _

__“Oh Vik, I could’ve gotten that!” Joseph says, heading over to make sure he has it under control. “Or at least helped.”_ _

__“Oh it’s all good. You were busy, so Mary took advantage of my strong dad arms.” Vik jokes, allowing himself to have a nerdy dad moment and playfully flex for Joseph._ _

__“Oh my,” Joseph grins. A hand reaches up, giving Vik’s bicep a squeeze. Okay, he wasn’t Craig, but he had been doing a little weight training with him over the summer. “That is actually harder than I expected.”_ _

__“I’m offended,” Vik pouts at Joseph, arms dropping at his sides. “I can bench like… Uh…” He pauses, reaching up to ruffle his own hair. “Okay, I’d have to ask Craig because I can’t remember, but still. I’ve been slacking these last few weeks, but most of the summer I faithfully did two weight training days and two cardio days.”_ _

__“The only cardio I do is chasing the twins around,” Joseph admits, laughing. It’s a sweet sound; a familiar chime with a sugary coating. “I guess they keep me fit, so I can’t complain.”_ _

__“They’re also adorable.” Vik adds, turning to look at the children in question. Christian tosses a stick, watching Betsy chase after it. Damien is going on a tangent to Christie about how she isn’t allowed to feed Oreos to animals._ _

__Vik finally heads back inside to help Mary carry some of the dishes out to the table, while Joseph begins welcoming the arriving guests. Brian is the first to show, then Craig, Hugo, and lastly Mat. Betsy gets excited when she spots Maxwell, running over to the older dog and the two of them thoroughly sniffing one another._ _

__“Hey bro!” Craig greets, setting down a bag of Chex Mix and a veggie platter on one of the folding tables. “Haven’t seen you in a bit. Been worried.” He admits, moving to give Vik a quick hug. “I assumed you weren’t doing too hot with Amanda being gone and just needed some time to find your new groove.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Vik admits, making a face. “I guess you know all too well how bad I am at handling this kind of stuff.” Craig had definitely had a lot of experience with Vik not wanting to leave bed, eat, or shower back in college._ _

__“If you want, I can start doing some early morning wake up calls for you. Drag you out of bed to get a little exercise.” He offers a soft grin, despite the evident sense of worry in his eyes._ _

__“That… Would probably be a good idea, yeah. Actually, there’s a key on the frame above my door. You can let yourself in.” It would be good for him, even if it sucked. Plus, Craig knew when to push and when to let things slide._ _

__“Heyyyy, that works!” Craig nods, clapping Vik on the shoulder gently. “Our usual days good?” Vik nods. “Alright, we’ll start Monday.”_ _

__The rest of the conversation is uneventful for the most part. The kids are at Smashley’s for the weekend, and she took them to the aquarium this morning. Vik got to see a bunch of pictures she sent Craig of fish, as well as a video of the twins and River getting to touch a stingray._ _

__Soon enough Craig is off to snack on the veggie platter and play fetch with Betsy and Maxwell. Though Vik isn’t quite sure that Craig knows how to play fetch, considering he chases after the frisbee alongside the dogs. It makes the kids laugh, though._ _

__“Catch it with your mouth, old man!” Ernest yells, laid back on a picnic blanket with Daisy, Carmensita, and Lucien. Instead of being annoyed, Craig quiet literally jumps to try and catch it with his teeth. It doesn’t work, but the kids are dying of laughter._ _

__“I would’ve brought another frisbee if I knew Craig was gonna chase it, too.” Brian laughs, bellowing and deep. Vik has found himself in a group with the large man, Mat, and Hugo._ _

__“Craig and I used to play our own version of extreme frisbee where we caught it in our mouth. College was a time.” Vik jokes, reminding Brian of the way they met. Mat and Hugo look lost._ _

__“I met Vik in the park, tossing the disc around for ol’ Maxwell. Hit him square in the face.” Brian explains, nudging Vik with his elbow. Vik nudges him back, a little harder. Gotta win._ _

__“I’ll figure out how to actually catch that darn thing one day.”_ _

__As the conversation continues, Vik quickly learns that September means something very different to Hugo and Mat respectively. Mat enjoyed the student rush, along with the morning class slump. Students would file in for a solid hour, quick to get their coffee before classes started. Once they did, though, the café was almost dead for a good little while. It was a nice time to relax after all the morning rush. Hugo, however, was picking up with a new bunch of students and fresh classes. The older kids had adjusted to their schedules, but the middle schoolers were still falling asleep in first period._ _

__Brian breaks off to chat with Joseph about the grill for a while, and Hugo excuses himself to go find the washroom. Vik is left alone with Mat, which Mat seems thankful for._ _

__“The barbeques are always fun, but talking so much is exhausting.” Mat admits, and Vik gives a quick nod in agreement._ _

__“Oh yeah, I get that.” He lets out a sigh, cupping his solo cup full of iced tea. “I, uh. Have a question.” This had been prying at Vik’s mind since he saw Mat. It was something that Amanda suggested before she left, knowing her dad well enough to know he’d spend way too much time home alone without her around. “Are there any open positions at The Coffee Spoon?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Mat replies, eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Why do you ask?”_ _

__“Well,” Vik starts, giving a little shrug. “Amanda’s tuition is pretty steep and I’ve been thinking about getting a job. Plus, if we’re being honest, it’ll be a reason for me to actually leave the house and not become a hermit.”_ _

__“You’re hired.”_ _

__“Oh, c’mon Mat. I can totally make you a resume or something.”_ _

__“No need,” Mat says, waving his hand. “I actually had to let Stacy go this morning. Sweet girl, but she kept sneaking her friends free food. So, I need a replacement for her. Pablo and Lucien are my only other staff, so you can imagine we’re stretched a little thin. Besides, I’m sure you’re qualified.”_ _

__“Oh yeah,” Vik nods. “I was a cashier a few years back, and I use my coffee pot on a daily basis. I wouldn’t trust me with baking, though. I can mix stuff, sure. But as far as using an oven goes, I have set a few too many things on fire.”_ _

__“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mat chuckles, flashing a sweet smile. “Can you start Tuesday morning?”_ _

__“I’ll be there.”_ _

__The rest of the barbeque flows smoothly, Vik enjoying an expertly cooked burger with far too many onions on it (he makes a point to whisper the phrase ‘heaven on earth with an onion slice’ to Joseph), and sneaks bites of the burger to Betsy. The kids laugh and play, and Ernest only interrupts a few times by sneaking up behind people with an air horn. All in all, it seems like a success._ _

__Vik lingers longer than the other guests, despite his own exhaustion. He always felt weird leaving these events for others to clean up, anyway. Mary certainly didn’t complain when he began helping her carry stuff back inside while Joseph took the time to scrub the grill grates clean._ _

__“Anything new in your life?” Vik inquires as Mary leads him out to the spare refrigerator in the garage. They organize the platters in there, and Mary grabs them each a beer. She cracks hers open, clinking it against Vik’s half-assedly._ _

__“Eh,” she starts, taking a long sip. “Y’know the animal shelter in town?”_ _

__“Yeah, you volunteer there, right?”_ _

__“Dames and I both do.” She nods, leaning her back against the icebox’s closed door. “The old lady who ran it, Yolanda, kicked the bucket last month. Got a call from her lawyer about her leaving me some stuff in her will. Had to go sit through some awkward ass meeting with her and Yolanda’s kids. She left them the big stuff, her house, car, money. But, and I shit you not, she left me the shelter. Whole damn thing and the bank account for it. I own a building full of animals.”_ _

__“That… Is awesome.” Vik says, blinking a few times. “Wow, like. You’re an official businesswoman, Mary. A businesswoman with a surplus of cute animals.”_ _

__“It’s the best damn thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” Mary shakes her head, finishing off her beer and crunching the can before tossing it into a large trash bin. “Freaked out at first, considering I’ve never owned a business. But… I actually like being there, y’know? And animals are way better than people.”_ _

__“Oh, definitely. No doubt about that.”_ _

__“That old lady was bitter and spiteful. Kids hated her, from what I could tell. Moved out of town as soon as they were old enough to do so. But she loved those animals. I’ve been the only steady volunteer for years, besides Dames. Guess nobody else could stand the woman.”_ _

__“You can’t badmouth her too bad, Mary. She gave you an animal shelter.”_ _

__“A’ight, you got a point there.” She huffs, pushing up from where she was leaning on the fridge and starting back inside. She makes a face when she hears a child starting to cry. “Coming, Crish!” She calls, breaking away from Vik and heading up the stairs. “Stay sleazy, sailor.” She turns to give a quick two-finger salute._ _

__“Always do,” Vik waves at her before heading back outside. Betsy is curled into a tiny circle on one of the patio chairs, fast asleep. Joseph has a trash bag in hand, wandering around and filling it. Lucien is sat on the ground by the tea party set, listening to the twins babble on about something. Chris was across the yard, sat underneath a tree and nose buried in a book._ _

__“Hey,” Vik says as he approaches Joseph, beginning to help gather up used paper plates and any napkins that the breeze had knocked into the grass. “It was a great barbeque, but then again, they always are.”_ _

__Joseph flashes him a sweet smile, chuckling softly. “You’re too kind.” The two continue to tidy up in silence for a few minutes. The kids make their way inside, Damien herding them all into the house. Joseph ties off the trash bag and sets it aside, Vik helping him fold up one of the plastic tables._ _

__“Oh, and about what I said earlier,” Joseph starts, finding Vik’s gaze full of confusion. “On DadBook. About the counseling. I was serious.”_ _

__“That’s really nice of you,” Vik admits, thinking of the grief counseling that he had received after Alex. It didn’t fix his problems, but it seemed to help. “I would be willing to try it.”_ _

__“Wonderful!” Joseph says, moving to produce a worn little booklet from his back pocket. He flips it open, thumbing through the pages for a moment. “Mondays, noon to one. How does that sound?”_ _

__“I’m fine with that.”_ _

__Joseph nods, perusing his planner a little more. “Also, if you’d be up for it, we have weekly youth group meetings on Wednesdays.”_ _

__“Joseph, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not exactly what you’d deem a youth.”_ _

__He laughs a little, shaking his head. “I mean, you can help me manage it and afterwards we can retire to my office and have some margaritas and an unofficial session.”_ _

__“Well, I’m not one to turn down a margarita.” Vik says, trying to keep track of his schedule. Gosh, he was going to be busy. It was always all or nothing with him. Either he sat at home, sad and lonely, or he spent every moment of his time being busy and distracting himself until it turned around to bite him in the ass. “I’ll try to be there. I actually just took a job with Mat, so I need to figure out what my schedule is gonna look like.”_ _

__The rest of the clean up doesn’t take too long, helping Joseph take the trash to the can and put the folding tables back in the garage. Once that’s all said and done, Vik and Betsy depart and head back home._ _

__Betsy heads right for her doggy bed, curling up and laying in it. She rests her chin atop the edge of it, giving Vik a tired look with her big, shiny eyes. “Me too.” He replies, heading over to rub the top of her head gently. It’s only six in the evening, but Vik strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed._ _

__Sleep doesn’t take him quickly, which results in Vik watching cat videos on YouTube for the next two hours until he’s drowsy enough to nap. Of course, as soon as he starts to drift, his phone buzzes on his nightstand. Maybe it’s Amanda? Buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. He reluctantly reaches over to grab it, squinting to read the screen without his glasses. Texts from Robert._ _

__Vik unlocks his phone, reaching over to pick his glasses and stick them back on his face. The first text is a picture of Robert and Val. They look like they’re in some old timey pizzeria, each taking a bite from one of the biggest slices of pizza Vik had ever seen. It was obvious Val took the photo, holding it an angle that youths deemed good for selfies. After the photo was a series of messages, the little three dots flashing on his screen to inform him that Robert was still typing._ _

____ Robert: vik  
Robert: hey  
Robert: wyd  
Robert: is it bad that one of things i missed most about home was the pizza  
Robert: seriously you will never find pizza this good anywhere else and it’s a fucking shame  
Robert: what did you do today  
Robert: how’s betsy  
Robert: are my plants dead  
Robert: vik  
Robert: vik

__Vik couldn’t help but smile at how endearing Robert’s seemingly endless texts were, even if they sometimes got on his nerves. He hadn’t heard from the other in about two weeks, so he was more than excited for some conversation._ _

____ Vik: Betsy ate your plants. Sorry to break it to you. They’re all dead  
Robert: she can’t eat the ficus tho  
Robert: it’ll make her sick  
Robert: betsy what have you done  
Vik: As for the pizza, I’ve never been to New York so I’ll just have to take your word for it  
Robert: i'm gonna bring you here someday  
Robert: we’ll eat too much pizza and probably get mugged  
Robert: it’ll be a good time

__Vik’s heart flutters a little at Robert’s promise to take him to his hometown someday. He knew that it was probably a silly overreaction, all things considered. Robert and him had had their moment at the beginning of summer, ending in Robert’s promise to get better and Vik agreeing to wait for him. But that was months ago, and Robert had been staying with Val in New York since then as motivation. Vik frowns, knowing the two of them had barely had a chance to talk. Robert was probably over him by now._ _

____ Robert: but seriously how was your day  
Robert: what have you been up to  
Robert: i always get on here and talk about my shit   
Robert: so let’s talk about your shit  
Vik: Today was good. Betsy and Maxwell played fetch, went to Joseph’s barbeque, Mat agreed to let me work with him to help pay for Amanda’s tuition. All in all, it’s been pretty solid  
Vik: On a serious note, your plants are fine. I’ve been going over and watering them and stuff  
Robert: oh hot damn vik my man you’re gonna be a fucking barista  
Robert: all hipstery and shit  
Vik: Hahaha yeah no. I’m probably going to mix up people’s orders and Mat is going to deem me only capable of sweeping tables and wiping the floors.   
Vik: Wait that’s backwards  
Robert: mat would really appreciate his tables being swept  
Robert: it’s a hipster thing  
Vik: I’m going to get fired  
Robert: probably  
Vik: Maybe Mary will hire me since she owns the animal shelter now  
Robert: there isn’t anyone else besides dames who is fit to run that place tbh

__What does ‘tbh’ mean? Vik has seen Amanda use it, as well. Gotta Google that later._ _

____ Vik: At least I probably won’t have any way to accidentally burn down the animal shelter  
Vik: I told Mat not to let me use the ovens but I’m not sure he’ll heed my warning  
Robert: do me a favor  
Vik: What?   
Robert: snag me a copy of the recipe for those fucking chocolate chip muffins  
Vik: Robert.   
Vik: Robert please. I’m trying to not get fired  
Robert: it’s no rush ok just keep quiet  
Robert: gain mat’s trust  
Robert: he’ll never suspect a thing  
Vik: And even if I get the recipe, are you going to make the muffins? Do you even know how to use the oven?   
Robert: um excuse me val won her seventh grade baking contest with my help  
Vik: That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard  
Robert: stfu  
Vik: What did you guys make?   
Robert: cupcakes  
Robert: she used those edible sparkles  
Robert: that shit got everywhere  
Vik: That is so cute  
Vik: Alex used to take care of baking because I burnt a lot of cookies that were supposed to go to Amanda’s class  
Vik: I also forgot to tell the teacher once that there were peanuts in something and one kid went into anaphylactic shock and had to be rushed to the hospital  
Robert: food allergies were designed to weed out the weak in this world  
Vik: Mary’s son Chris is allergic to peanuts, Robert  
Robert: he’s the weakest christiansen and must be eliminated  
Robert: it’s nothing personal just natural selection  
Vik: Are you trying to tell me that the universe is actively trying to kill us just to see who is the strongest?   
Robert: that’s exactly what’s fucking happening, vik  
Vik: If it was a game show, I’d watch it  
Robert: natural selection  
Robert: hosted by steve harvey and the ghost of steve irwin   
Robert: i'd fucking win   
Vik: Don’t you mean the gHOST of Steve Irwin?   
Robert: fuck  
Robert: how did i miss out on that joke  
Vik: Gotta up your daddy game, Robert  
Robert: don’t call me daddy  
Vik: Daddy Robert  
Robert: god dammit vik do you know what you’ve done  
Vik: What?   
Robert: my dicks hard

__Vik chokes a bit, phone sliding from his hands and smacking him in the nose. His cheeks are hot, looking back to the phone for a long moment. He picks it up, fumbling with the keys. He types several responses, erasing each one instead of sending them._ _

__ Robert: what are you wearing _ _

__This dude’s sense of humor was ridiculous. Well, two can play that game. Time to wilt said imaginary boner._ _

__ Vik: An adult diaper _ _

__Nothing happens for a moment, before he begins typing again._ _

____ Robert: i'm still hard so i guess i'm into it  
Vik: I’m going back to bed   
Robert: it’s only like eight  
Vik: I had to talk to people all day Robert. That’s a lot of work  
Robert: alright yeah true  
Robert: nighty night vik  
Robert: have sex dreams of me k  
Vik: Yes daddy  
Robert: fuc k

__Vik laughs, locking his phone and tossing it aside to sink back into his sheets. Setting his glasses aside, he reburies his nose into his pillows and silently hopes Robert comes home soon. He drifts off to sleep easily after that, despite the feeling of butterflies in his stomach._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter was slow BUT it will pick up. i just needed to crank out a nice little premise to anything and kinda establish a timeline and blah blah blah all that jazz. ill probably be updating this on a monday/friday schedule? even tho im posting this at 11pm on a sunday so i guess this will count as the monday update? maybe? idk maybe ill update a little sooner just to get the ball rolling. ive already written up through chapter 8 so i have a little backlog. 
> 
> you see me rambling? yes this will be a reoccurring theme. i thought i had more important stuff to say here but mostly im just spouting nonsense. basically, all i gotta say is that i love these characters to death and they deserve to be happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: a counseling session with joseph that involves some fluffernutters and a weird comment about robert, vik's first shift at the coffee spoon, a text conversation with damien about flowers, and some cute gay teenagers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo ok so i wanted to get another chapter out a little early to kinda get the ball rolling on the story. there is gonna be some background pablo/lucien during this fic tho it wont be a predominant in future chapters as it is in this one. i kinda wrote the latter half of this chapter so i could maybe do a spin off with pablo and lucien at some point if i wanted to.
> 
> but yeah, take some more vik awkwardly fumbling through life

_Monday, September 18th, 2017_

  
Mary: When are you coming home? Everyone else around here is lame.  
Robert: aww mary do you miss me  
Mary: Yes, you ass. I miss you.  
Robert: i miss you too but don’t ever tell anyone i ever said that  
Mary: My lips are sealed. I’ve also taken a screenshot of this text to send to Vik.  
Mary: Lookie lookie, Robert misses me more than you.  
Mary: If the dude wasn’t down enough, I’d actually go through with that.  
Robert: he seemed fine when i talked to him on saturday  
Mary: Saturday was the first day most of us had seen him since Amanda left.   
Mary: Don’t think he’s handling living alone too well.  
Mary: Speak of the devil, he just jogged by with Craig. Guess that’s a good sign.  
Robert: has he really seemed that bad  
Mary: You know how Joseph has that loud ass knock that could wake a hibernating bear?  
Mary: Kid slept through that quite a few times. Or he ignored it, but he’s the type who’d feel bad if he did that.  
Mary: And it’s not like Joseph was showing up at 6AM or something. More like, three in the afternoon.   
Robert: 3pm is a totally reasonable time to be sleeping idk what you’re talking about  
Mary: He’ll be fine, I think. Joseph roped the poor kid into helping him manage the youth group on Wednesdays. Hopefully he’ll sit through one meeting and then get the hell out of Dodge.   
Mary: Alright Robert, it’s been fun. Get your ass home soon.  
Robert: i'll try  


* * *

The morning jog was exhausting and Vik takes a shower when he gets home, and lays down for a nap. When his alarm finally wakes him up around eleven-thirty, he rolls out of bed with a groan and throws himself together. Would Joseph notice if he wore the same shirt as two days ago? Probably. He sighs and digs through his closet for something clean. 

_I can’t wear this_ , he tells himself as he pulls on the faded ACDC shirt. While Robert was gone, he had been going over to his house weekly to water his plants. He had also tidied up a bit, and done whatever laundry was laying around. This shirt was part of said laundry, and Vik had totally accidentally stolen it. By accident. Totally.

Vik bunches it in the back and ties a little rubber band around the gathered fabric to make the shirt appear like it isn’t actually two sizes too big. He throws on a light hoodie overtop, along with some jeans he’s worn at least three times since they were last washed. Just throw on some cologne and hope for the best. 

Vik feeds and waters Betsy before he leaves the house and gets in the car. The drive to the church is short, less than ten minutes, and he finds a parking spot easily enough. He sees Joseph’s minivan parked by the front, those little stick figure family car stickers across the back window. 

When he enters the front double doors into the nave, overwhelmed with the colored light streaming down against the floors from the stained-glass windows. Churches were always so pretty, especially ones as old as this. He passes the rows of benches, spotting some familiar faces close to the front. There’s a woman in a knee-length skirt and tan blouse at the front, seated in a chair by a row of benches and speaking quietly. Sitting in the benches were a few children, including Chris and the twins, notebooks in hand and listening as intently as any child could. 

“Excuse me,” Vik says softly, a little pang of anxiety welling up in his chest over interrupting this woman’s teaching session. The kids were learning about the alphabet. That’s important shit. The kind that you don’t want to interrupt. “I’m looking for Joseph.”

“Oh, Father Christiansen is in his office.” She answers, continuing to watch Vik’s puzzled face. “His office is… Well, Christie, would you be a dear and show this gentleman where your daddy’s office is? Don’t dawdle, darling. You will be late for snack time if you do.”

Christie springs up out of her seat on the bench, setting her notebook and sparkly pencil in the spot she previously occupied. “Hi, Mr. Vik.” She grins, coming over and putting her hand out. Vik doesn’t hesitate to gently grasp it, being lead from the room and into a hallway by the little girl. Then into another hallway, and then _another_ hallway. Every hallway looked the same, and most of the doors lacked labels. And there was a staircase, which led upstairs to even more hallways. 

“This place is big,” Vik comments as he continues to follow his little tour guide, not letting go of her hand. “Have you ever gotten lost?”

“Yeah.” She replies, turning her big blues on the older man. “Daddy tells me not to explore so I don’t get lost and die.”

“Getting lost and dying would be a bad thing, yeah.” Vik agrees as Christie finally stops walking at the end of a hall. She takes her hand back, placing both of them onto the doorknob and giving it a turn. 

“Daddy!!” She chimes, rushing in and around her father’s desk. He pauses, looking a little startled but happy, and pulls her up into his lap.

“Hi, princess! What are you doing here?”

“I needed help finding your office,” Vik says softly from the doorway, giving a little wave. Joseph smiles at him, so Vik smiles back. “Christie here was a huge help. I would’ve never found my way here otherwise.”

“Well then, thank you sweetheart.” Joseph grins, kissing the top of his daughter’s hair before setting her back on her feet. 

“Snack time!!!” She says suddenly, turning and bounding out of the room faster than Vik thought was humanely possible. 

“I wish I had half her energy.” Vik chuckles, moving to close the office door behind him. Then he heads over, taking a seat in one of the chairs adjacent to Joseph’s desk. “It’s like she runs on rocket fuel.”

Joseph laughs, moving to dig around in a drawer in his desk. “Yeah, I would get so much done if I could move that fast. The house would never be messy, that’s for sure.” He produces two paper brown bags, sliding one towards Vik. “This is technically my lunch hour, so I’ll be eating during your sessions. Thought maybe you’d want something as well. Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t.” Vik takes the bag Joseph slides to him, peering inside. A sandwich in a baggie, a pack of crackers, and a fruit cup. “You spoil me, Joseph.”

“The sandwich is a fluffernutter, but with Nutella instead of peanut butter.”

“Joseph, don’t use that kind of language around me.” Vik says in mock horror, eliciting another grin from Joseph, before digging the sandwich out and opening it. It reeks of sugar and his fingers feel stickier the second he’s touching it. It’s the best thing ever.

The two of them begin eating in silence as Joseph simply begins digging around his desk for a few more things. He produces some papers and a tape recorder. He also goes back to fetch two juice boxes, tossing one to Vik. He puts a fresh tape into the recorder and turns it on. “Alright, so, formalities first. I record these sessions, nobody will ever listen to these tapes besides myself. Everything you say in this room is confidential unless you express an intent to harm yourself or someone else. Understood?”

Vik nods. Joseph continues to stare, before Vik gets it. “Yes.” The recorder couldn’t hear a nod. 

“State your first and last name for the recording.”

“Vik Mahoney.”

“Good,” Joseph says, taking another spoonful from his fruit cup before handing Vik a packet. “So, in front of you are some basic questions and a way for me to keep track of some of your information. I’ll be writing all of this down in my copy of the packet, but I find it helps if you have the questions in front of you and can read them yourself. So, first thing’s first, how old are you? And when’s your birthday?”

“Forty, and it’s July 11th, 1977.” Vik replies, taking a long minute to chew on the dry, sticky sandwich he was eating. He read ahead, noticing the gender section was a lot more extensive than what Vik had thought a church would include. Male, female, transgender male, transgender female, other. 

“I know,” Joseph starts, sipping some of the juice out of his cup. “The gender area is a little bit confusing. Lucien has been insisting for a while that we expand it, though. And it’s gone over pretty well with some of the youths I’ve been counseling. Opened up a nice discussion of gender that they weren’t previously comfortable with. So, gender? And pronouns? Like, he/him, she/her, they/them.”

Vik feels a little pang of anxiety over answering, taking a moment longer than necessary to chew his sandwich before swallowing. “Transgender male. And he/him.”

Joseph gives him a quick glance, that familiar questioning look in his eye, before he went back to writing. “Alright, there’s also a sexuality section that you aren’t required to answer if you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I’m uh. Mostly into guys.” Vik finally says, deciding that’s easier than trying to explain his place on the sexuality/romantic spectrum. Joseph was already going to probably ask at least a few uncomfortable questions about him being trans. 

“Okay.” He says, moving to start eating his own sandwich. Vik fights with his Capri-sun while Joseph starts the next round of questioning. “Medical history stuff, once again, entirely optional. Any history of mental illness, including anxiety, depression, OCD, etc.”

“My entire life is just a never-ending stream of anxiety and depression.” Vik says, sounding a little more hopeless than he intended. It was supposed to be a joke, but Joseph just flashes him a worried gaze. He keeps his eyes on his food, avoiding eye contact.

“Any disabilities, mental or physical? Including but not limited to Autism spectrum disorders, paralysis, hard of hearing or deafness, sight impairments, et cetera.”

“ADHD is the only notable thing, really.”

The questions keep coming, branching into things ranging from his college major to how many sexual partners he’d had in the last year (none). When they were finally done, the two were finishing up their lunch.

“Alright, well, that’s out of the way.” Joseph says, setting the packet aside and taking Vik’s copy. “Now we can get into the actual counseling. That is pretty much a one-time thing. Unless we change or update it, you won’t have to fill it out again.”

“Okay.” Vik says, and then it gets quiet. It takes him a moment to realize that Joseph is waiting for him to talk. His mouth goes dry, trying to figure out where to start. “Amanda is gone.”

“Yes, off to college. Does she call or text you often?”

“Yeah, she texts me every day.” Vik nods, shrinking down into his seat to become comfortable. “She had me download Skype before she left so we can video chat whenever she has the time.”

“That’s great. You must miss her a lot.”

“Yeah. She’s never been away from me for so long, and… I’ve never been alone before. As a kid, I had my parents. And then I went to college and I had Craig. And then after college, Alex and I moved into a little apartment together and saved up for a house. And then Amanda came. When Alex died… I still had Amanda. There was still somebody around all the time, you know?”

Joseph gives a little nod, settling back and occasionally taking notes. “Do you have any idea why having someone else around is so important to you?”

Vik muses that question for a moment, not really liking the answer. “I… Don’t really have any motivation when it comes to myself. If I feel somewhat responsible for another human, then I have a reason to take care of myself so I can take care of them. When it’s just me… I just… Don’t have the energy to function in a healthy way.”

“Vik,” Joseph starts, fingers intertwining and folding his hands under his chin, elbows propped up on the desk. “Would you say that your life doesn’t have meaning unless you’re doing something for someone else?”

“…Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate.” Vik sighs, not sure if this is going well. It was probably best to talk about this kind of stuff, but so far Vik just felt exhausted. “I was a husband, and then a father, but now I’m a widow with an empty nest. There’s nothing left for me to do.” 

“What about Amanda’s future, though?” Joseph tilts his head, reaching out to gently place a hand on top of one of Vik’s that’s resting against the desk. “She has so many years ahead of her that she’ll want you to see and be a part of. She may get married or have her own kids. You have that to look forward to.”

“Logically Joseph, that makes sense.” Vik admits, staring at their hands for a long moment. “But my brain has issues processing anything that isn’t going to happen in the next day or two. Like, even if all that stuff happens, it’s hard for me to convince myself to do more than the bare minimum of survival until I get there.”

“Well, that’s why it’s probably a good idea to keep yourself busy. Tie yourself up with other people. Like coming here weekly, or exercising with Craig, or your new job with Mat. Other people seem to be the biggest motivator in your mind, and while that’s not exactly healthy, it’s a good start in the process of helping yourself get better.”

“Yeah,” he had a point. His thoughts probably weren’t healthy, but he had always been this way. It was sort of bizarre to consider changing the way his brain has worked for the last forty years. 

The rest of the session continues, Joseph poking around Vik’s habits a little. He encourages a better sleeping pattern, as well as eating habits, but Vik expected both of those things. He wasn’t good with either, especially since Amanda left and he had nobody else to feed. Well, besides Betsy, but she ate dog food that didn’t require cooking. 

When the little timer Joseph has set up goes off, he reaches up to stop it and pause the recording. “Well, that’s all the time we have for today Vik. How did you like it?”

“I mean… It did feel good to talk to someone.”

Joseph beams, giving Vik’s hand a squeeze. “I’m glad. It’s not going to be a quick fix, but I’m your friend and I will always be here to help you when you need it.”

Vik feels a little emotional, eyes suddenly stinging a bit with the threat to spill tears. “Thank you so much, Joseph. That means a lot.”

He nods, finally retracting his hand. “Do you remember how to get out of here?”

“I can probably figure it out,” Vik says, standing up. “Thanks so much for the lunch, too. That was a really nice surprise.”

Joseph nods, smiling a bit. He pauses though, eyes falling further down Vik’s body. Vik feels a little self-conscious until he realizes Joseph is just looking at his shirt. 

“You like ACDC?”

“They’re a classic,” Joseph replies, giving a little nod. “I just… Is that Robert’s shirt?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “No,” Vik replies quickly, but Joseph doesn’t look convinced. “Okay, yes. After he left I took the liberty of cleaning his house a bit. Including doing some of his laundry. Some of it got mixed up in mine.”

Joseph nods at that, eyes finally returning to Vik’s face. “Ah, well that was very kind of you to tidy up after Robert. As for taking his clothes, well, stealing is a sin.” Joseph warns, but there’s a playfulness to his warning. “I assume you’ll return them when he comes home?”

“Definitely.”

Joseph nods, and Vik takes the moment to head for the door. He opens it, turning to wave goodbye. Instead, Joseph starts talking again. “I certainly cannot blame you for stealing his clothes. He has a knack for picking out things that are just too comfy to pass up.” He reaches up, adjusting the sleeves of the blue sweater tied around his neck. “I’ll be seeing you later, Vik.”

“Oh, yeah. Bye.” Vik gives a wave, closing the door behind him. What… Was that? That was weird. Very weird. He sighs, giving a glance to his phone and deciding he could focus on how weird that was later. He needed to be at The Coffee Spoon in twenty minutes. 

He makes his way back downstairs, thankful he doesn’t get totally lost wandering around. He waves goodbye to the Christiansen kids on his way out, getting into his car and starting the ignition. The drive to The Coffee Spoon only takes five minutes, and most of the drive is just Vik sitting at a crosswalk watching a dog walker with at least a dozen tiny dogs trying to cross the street. What a great job. 

The Coffee Spoon is just coming down from its lunch rush. Pablo is behind the counter, his weight leaned against the flat surface and his eyes closed as if he could catch a little bit of sleep standing there. Lucien is scrubbing down a few tables, and Vik would think he looked tired too if it weren’t for the bright eyeshadow above the boy’s eyes. Was that what Amanda called a smoky eye? It looks super cool. A quick glance around tells him Mat must be in the back, so he heads for the counter and gives it a little knock. Pablo cracks an eye open at him, quickly putting on a smile.

“Vik!” He says, far louder than necessary in the almost silent coffee shop. Lucien actually jumps a bit from across the room, before recovering quickly and going back to his cleaning as if nothing happened. “My dude! How have you been?”

“I’ve been managing.” Vik admits. “Been weird since Amanda left for college.”

“Oh yeah, Sunshine.”

“Sunshine?”

“That’s what I’m gonna call her now since she dyed her hair.”

“Wait, what?”

Pablo pauses, brows arching. “Oh shit man, she got it done yesterday. It looks so good.” He produces a cellphone from his pocket, eyes shifting down to it for a long moment as his finger dances around the screen.

“How do you know she dyed her hair?”

“Saw it on Instagram.” Pablo shrugs, turning to show Vik. The top of the screen had Amanda’s Instagram name ‘amanda.apanda’, and below that was a picture dated twenty hours ago. It was Amanda and her roommate, Charli. Charli had short-cut, bright blue hair and seemed to be responsible for doing the dyeing. Amanda’s hair remained brown at the top and all the way down to the bottom of her ears, where it continued as a pale-yellow color. “See, Sunshine. Never met someone who looked so good in yellow.”

Vik pauses, admiring how beautiful his daughter was. “Before she came along, I hated the color yellow.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders. “She made me fall in love with it.”

Pablo grins at that, locking his phone and tucking it away. He gives a glance around before turning back to Vik. “Mat should be out soon. Lunch was… It was a mess today, and some lady got mad about her drink and yelled at him.” He grimaces, reaching up to undo his hair. The green, fluffy locks fall to his shoulders. He brushes his fingers through it, before finally starting to pull it back up into a neater bun. “Lady ordered a Smashing Pumpkin Spiced Latte, and complains about the cinnamon. I make her a new one without cinnamon, and she complains about the cinnamon again. And I was like, lady look, maybe you just don’t like pumpkin? But she got mad at me and asked to speak to my manager. Mat explained the same thing to her, but this time she just went off on him.”

“What a nightmare,” Vik makes a face, hoping that customers like that were few and far between. “I hope Mat’s okay.”

“Yeah, he just needs a few minutes. He’s got some muffins to make, and that’s basically his own version of therapy.” Pablo snorts, leaning his chin on his palm with his weight against the counter again. He’s gazing past Vik, eyes getting a bit of an awed look to them. Vik turns to peek in that direction, only spotting Lucien who’s stopped cleaning for a moment to check his hair and makeup in his phone’s camera. 

“Pablo,” Vik starts, glancing back at him. “Do you… Have a crush on Lucien?” He whispers the last part, not wanting to alert the other teen.

Pablo pauses, giving Vik a little glance before his eyes went back to Lucien. “Yeah. I think he likes me too since I catch him staring a lot. He’s shy, though. I’d probably scare him.”

“You should bring him flowers.”

“What?”

“His dad does the whole Victorian thing, right?” Vik starts, whispering now. “Victorians thought every flower had some like special meaning, and so people would send each other bouquets to express their feelings. Bring him some flowers. It’s quiet, and it’s something familiar. Plus, it’ll earn you brownie points with Damien.”

Pablo pauses for a moment, debating that. “What if I get the meaning of a flower wrong, though? I don’t wanna give him like, petunias, meaning to tell him I think he’s pretty, but they somehow actually mean something like. I dunno, ‘your taste in shoes suck’.”

Vik pauses for a moment, forming a quick idea. “Give me a second.” He says, pulling out his own phone and beginning to type.

  
Vik: Hey Damien I know I would normally write you but I have a question  
Vik: It’s about flowers  
Damien: Greetings, Vik! Why, it is such a pleasure to hear from you, even in a less than preferred medium. As for your question, I am always prepared to educate another on flora.  
Vik: Alright cool. So like, I have a friend who is trying to give flowers to someone they have a crush on and I wanted to know what flowers would be good   
Damien: Red tulips were common in expressing someone’s declaration of romantic feelings or love, purple violets would express that the giver’s thoughts were often occupied by who they had caught feelings for.   
Damien: Calla lilies are a way to tell someone that you think they are absolutely beautiful, and white clovers tell that person to keep you in their thoughts.  
Damien: Red roses are also a very common way of expressing love. A few others to consider would be white jasmine, blue salvia, and sunflowers.  
Vik: Thank you so much Damien.   
Damien: Anytime, my dear friend. I must be going now. Duty calls, but I look forward to our next conversation.  
Vik: Same! Bye Dames  


“That… Is a lot of flowers.” Pablo says, making a face. He grabs a piece of paper and begins internet searches on each one, trying to figure out what would look good with what. He quickly settles on red tulips and purple violets, with some white calla lilies and clovers.

Mat finally emerges from the back, hair pulled back into a ponytail and looking tired. He smiles when he sees Vik, though. “Hey! Wow, sorry. I need to you a nametag and stuff.” 

“Hey Mat,” Pablo says, turning to him. “I gotta leave for like, ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops.”

Mat nods, giving Pablo the go-ahead. Pablo is out the door in an instant, and Vik watches him dart past the window and down the street. “What’s he in a hurry for?”

“He’s getting Lucien flowers,” Vik replies quietly, smiling. “Got Damien to unknowingly help set up his own son to be asked out via floriography.” 

“That… Is smooth as hell.” Mat admits, grinning. “Alright, follow me.” Mat leads Vik to the back, fetching him a name tag and a little apron with a spoon design on the front. The next hour of Vik’s life is spent leaning how to work the various machines behind the counter, and some of the basic drink recipes. It’s a lot to learn, but Mat promises to send him home with a few of the recipes so he can memorize them. 

When they finally have a free moment with Pablo, they both look to him expectedly. He glances up, smiling a little bit. “They’re gonna be delivered to his house tonight. I was too scared to have them delivered while I was here. I’d rather him reject me over a text.” He snorts, reaching up to scratch at his scalp nervously. “Plus, I do kind of want him dad to put two and two together. I’m scoring those brownie points.”

* * *

It was dark outside, and there was a cool chill in the air as Lucien walked home from work. He brushed his bangs back with his hand, tired as he enters the cul-de-sac. The lunch rush had been an absolute nightmare, and on top of that, Pablo was avoiding him most of the work day. He wasn’t sure what he had done to upset the other, and anxiety ripples through him as he wonders if Pablo finally figured out his crush and thought he was gross. His shoulders hunch at the thought, eyes casting downward as he took the walkway to his front door. He lets himself in, the overwhelming scent of something delicious hitting him. Angsty teen or not, he wasn’t going to pass up dinner. 

“Hey dad,” he says as he enters the kitchen, watching his dad flit around. He’s dressed down, having abandoned his work clothes for something comfortable but nothing with too much work. Must’ve been a long day for him as well. 

“Hello, my love. How was work?”

“Some lady yelled at Mat over a latte,” he mutters, taking a seat at one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Vik started today, and he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s a mess, but it’s a mess that makes me money, so whatever.”

“Oh yes, I had a conversation with Vik today about flower meanings, actually.” Damien chimes, draining some pasta over the sink. “Said he had a friend who had a crush and wanted to express their feelings through a bouquet. Isn’t that just the sweetest?”

Lucien idly wonders if that’s Vik’s way of secretly getting his dad a bouquet, but doesn’t question it. Would be a pretty good move on Vik’s part, but he wasn’t even sure Vik had a thing for his dad. Yeah, they wrote letters and stuff, but Damien also exchanged letters with Mr. Vega and Mary. “Yeah. Flowers are nice.” Lucien had grown up around flowers, and despite all the edgy teen vibes he had embedded into himself, flowers would always be enjoyable. “People don’t really give them to each other that much anymore.”

“It’s a shame.” Damien sighs softly, beginning to plate the pasta and coat each meal in a serving of vegan meatballs and homemade tomato sauce. He leads the two of them to the dining hall, taking a seat at the table together and digging in. 

Dinner continues, the two exchanging idle chitchat about their days. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least until there’s a knock at the door. Damien pauses, excusing himself to go answer it. Who would be showing up this late? Lucien makes a face, slurping up another fork-full of pasta. His father yells his name from across the house, and the teen sighs loudly and gets up. When he gets to the front door, there’s a man standing there. 

“He says he has a delivery for you,” Damien says, eyes full of curiosity. Lucien steps forward, brows raised.

“Lucien Bloodmarch?” Nod. The man turns to retrieve a bouquet from the quiver slung across his back. “These are for you.” He says, easing the flowers into Lucien’s arm. “They’re from…” He pauses, producing a card from his pocket. “Pablo Vasquez. Oh yeah, green haired kid. I remember him coming in earlier.” The guy comments, before shrugging. “Well, you two have a goodnight.” And with that, the delivery guy headed back to his car and was off.

“Lucien,” Damien breaths out after a moment, staring at the bouquet. “Did… Pablo have Vik ask me how to pick flowers out for you?”

“I think so.” Lucien says softly, taking in the flowers. He had been raised around them, drowned in their knowledge from the second he was old enough to help his father in the garden. He knew what they meant. “I need to text him.” Lucien says quickly, returning to the dining table where his phone was left. Damien, two steps ahead of him, enters the room with a vase filled with water. He helps his son maneuver the flowers into water, before Lucien slides back into his seat and stares at his phone screen for a solid two minutes. “What do I even say?”

“Well, do you like the boy back?”

Lucien purses his lips, cheeks dusting red. “Yeah. I have for a while now.”

“Then I suggest you ask him on a date.”

Lucien glances up at his father, overwhelmed by nerves. He looks back to his phone, shaking fingers typing out a text to Pablo.

  
Lucien: did you actually trick my dad into helping you pick out flowers for me?  
Pablo: i mean vik did it for me but yeah  
Pablo: do u like them??  
Lucien: they’re really pretty  
Pablo: like you  
Pablo: lol fuck that was super cheesy im sorry  


Lucien stares at his phone for a long moment, sure that his face was redder than the tulips sitting across from him. Pablo thinks he’s pretty?

  
Lucien: do you want to like do something sometime?  
Lucien: like a date or whatever  
Pablo: hell yeah i would love that  
Lucien: okay.   
Pablo: theres gonna be a lil festival thing this friday night  
Pablo: sweet music free drinks good weed yknow the works  
Pablo: would be super fun with u there  
Lucien: sounds like fun.  
Pablo: ill give u more deets later ill probs pick u up around eight  
Lucien: alright.  


Lucien finally sets his phone down, staring at his now cold dinner in silence. His stomach is doing flips in his abdomen, and he feels giddier than he has in… Well, probably ever, if he’s being honest with himself. Pablo likes him back. And wants to do stuff with him.

“So?”

“So…” Lucien says, taking a deep breath and letting out slowly. “Have I ever mentioned how much I fucking love flowers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i swear this fic gets more serious and angsty ok the first two chapters are just pretty lighthearted to kinda create the setting and an idea of vik's life and all that. dont worry there will be some nice angst in the next chapter that may or may not involve a lot of margaritas


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: margaritas, some deja vu, muffins, a two emotional phone calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look yall i told you that there would be angst. heres some angst. take it. take all of it.

_Wednesday, September 20th, 2017_

  
Robert: wyd  
Vik: Margaritas  
Robert: you’re doing margaritas  
Vik: I fucking love tequila  
Robert: are you drunk  
Vik: No no not durnk   
Robert: you can’t even spell drunk  
Vik: Okay I’m drunk  


He was drunk. There was no question about that. Today had gone pretty normally, starting with work. Nothing too eventful, besides Pablo and Lucien barely leaving each other’s sides. After that, Vik had headed home for a while. Then it was time for youth group with Joseph. 

As much as he was dreading it, it hadn’t gone too poorly. Ernest didn’t light anything on fire and Lucien dragged Pablo along with him. Carmensita and Daisy talked amongst themselves, and Joseph confiscated a switchblade from some kid Vik had never met. Then they had all settled down to eat snacks and watch a movie for the rest of the night. Joseph had brought him a solo cup, and a quick sip told him it was definitely not virgin. 

Safe to say that by the time the parents showed up to pick up their respective youths, Vik was pleasantly buzzed. Then the two of them had retired to Joseph’s office, and now found themselves three quarters of the way through a blender full of melting margarita mix. The man made a killer margarita, and Vik lounged back in his chair.

“Joseph, I’m drunk.”

Joseph laughs from his spot, cheeks tinted pink as he finishes off his own drink. “As am I. I’m not being a very efficient counselor, am I?”

“I dunno. I’m feeling pretty damn good.” Vik jokes, phone buzzing a few more times against his chest. He lifts it, absorbing the words on the screen.

  
Robert: can’t believe mary is pumping you full of tequila  
Robert: tequila is like the aphrodisiac of alcohol  
Robert: be wary vik she might be trying to make a move  
Vik: Hahaha yeah mary totally wants a piece of me  
Vik: But nope I’m drinking with joseph  
Vik: This dude makes a killer margarita  


The texts stop for a minute, so Vik puts his phone in his pocket and kicks his feet up against the back edge of Joseph’s desk. He looks to the blond seated next to him, grinning sloppily. “So, we should do some kind of counseling, right?”

“Okay, one sec,” Joseph says, hoisting himself up out of his chair and leaning over his desk. He retrieves his tape recorder from the drawer, before sitting back and turning it on. “This way I won’t forget everything we say by morning.” He smiles, all playful. 

“Good idea.” Vik nods, eyes moving downwards towards his shoes. He examines the patterns on his laces, trying to find some words. “What should I start with? My daddy issues? My dead husband? My existential dread?”

Joseph pauses, seeming to weigh those options. “Let’s go with your spouse, I guess. You probably won’t remember half of what you said in the morning, so you won’t have to dwell on it too long.”

“Mmm, good idea. Well, where do I start?” He muses, shoulders going slack, body warm from the large amount of alcohol in his bloodstream. “I met Alex in eleventh grade. He was new to Maple Bay and we had been putting up posters about needing a singer for our ska band. And he just… Shows up at my friend’s garage one day, asking if he can audition.”

“Was he any good?”

“Way too good for us.” Vik snorts, shaking his head and grinning. “Voice of an angel. Grew up singing in his church choir since his parents were devout Catholics. He was… Beautiful. And way out of my league. I mean, lightyears.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“No, seriously. He was like, the weird loner type in a way so I doubt he would’ve made friends with the cooler kids but… I didn’t think I’d stand a chance. He was sweet as could be, but he was hellbent on pissing off his parents. He smoked and would stay out too late and had a few college friends who would buy him alcohol. His parents left for a weekend once and he invited us all over for a party and I remember choking on the smoke of my first cigarette while looking at this wall of just. Crosses. Dozens of crosses, several of them had Jesus attached. Jesus was judging my bad decisions.” 

Joseph is laughing now, a hand coming up to his mouth and grinning. “He… Sounds a little bit like me in my youth.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Joseph says, nodding. “Grew up with a rich, super religious family. Only child so I was so important to their image in the community. I played it nice for years, attending all the church events and never stepping a foot out of line. At least, until after I finished college.”

“That… Sounds really close.” Vik admits, tilting his head. “Alex’s parents are loaded, and put a lot of pressure on him to be perfect his whole life. Everything about his parents seemed so perfect the first time I met them. So well put together, so happy, no problems. I wouldn’t have guessed anything was wrong until Alex told me they were miserable together.”

“Ah, yes. The unhappy parents who don’t believe in divorce but also refuse to discuss their issues. I know them well. I had them.” Joseph pauses for a moment, and while neither of them say it, they’re both thinking it. _You are one of them._

“It took him a while to open up. He was just… I don’t know. So conditioned to be perfect all the time. Even when he was rebelling, he was so emotionally constipated it drove me crazy. I’m an open book. I cry over the simplest things, and I tell people I love them too much, and I’m a huge sap. I care about everyone way too much and I get too emotionally involved in everything. And he… He liked it, I think. Maybe it was refreshing or whatever, but he would listen to me talk about my feelings every chance he got.

“I remember the first time he kissed me. My friend, Jay, he was the one with the garage we used for band practice. Well, one Christmas break in senior year, both of us ended up hiding there away from our families. Didn’t even plan it. I just showed up and he was there, smoking a cigarette, and offered to share a bottle of bourbon with me. Jay and his folks had left for the holiday, so we just… Turned up some music and got really smashed and ended up making out on this uncomfortable, bumpy old couch that was probably older than both of us combined. 

“I remember how scared I was the next morning… I was afraid he’d regret it or not even remember it but… He woke up and just gave me the sweetest smile and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. Then he asked me if I wanted to share a cigarette with him, so I did, and then he walked me home. And my parents yelled at me for staying out all night and not telling them where I was but… I couldn’t even care. I was so blissed out and happy.

“After that, we were inseparable. After school we would hang out together, and most of the time we weren’t even doing anything. We could just sit in his truck in the middle of a field in silence for hours at a time and it was… Great.”

“I understand that,” Joseph says, eyes looking a little somber. “Finding someone who you can just… Enjoy silence with. It’s a beautiful thing. Those people who don’t make you feel as if you must fill every moment with idle chitchat. Sometimes just… Existing alongside someone can be some of the most memorable moments of your life.” The longer he spoke, the sadder his voice became.

“Oh Joseph,” Vik starts, a frown starting on his lips. “I’m so sorry about how things are between you and Mary.”

“Mary?” Joseph pauses, glancing up before pausing and nodding. “Oh! Yes, Mary.” He composes himself, sighing once again, seeming ever sadder than he had been. “Mary and I are complicated in a lot of ways. I think we’re both to blame for that, even if she seems to put the blame entirely on me. I do understand that my parents weren’t exactly role models for how a marriage should be conducted, and I desperately tried to be a better man than my father but… At some point she shut me out, and no matter what I do or say… I’m just not sure how to fix it. I want to, but it’s as if she won’t let me. Sometimes I feel as if she wants us to be broken. She never liked things clean or perfect. She has always loved chaos and discourse and the socially unacceptable and… I don’t know what she saw me in. What reeled her in, really. But I adored her and I genuinely think she felt the same. It was never perfect or easy, but… At least back then it still felt like we were trying.”

  
Robert: you shouldn’t drink with him  
Robert: he’s not the kind of person you want to be drunk and alone with  


“Oh Joseph,” Vik starts, watching the man seem to curl in on himself. He can’t help it, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Joseph’s shoulders tightly. The other seems surprised by the sudden hug, but his arms wound around Vik’s midsection. Vik takes note of how warm the other is, and how nice it feels to be held like this. He hadn’t experienced it since June after the ghost tour with Robert, and before that… Well, Alex.

  
Robert: he has a way of making someone feel sorry for themselves  
Robert: like he’s the only one who can fix them  


A warm hand slides up Vik’s back, cupping the nape of his neck. Vik retracts a bit, but freezes in place when his eyes meet Joseph’s. They’re deep and blue and endless. There’s something more there, though. Something sad and lonely, vast and infinite. Vik’s heart skips a beat. Then Joseph’s lips smash against his, wet and hot and needy.

  
Robert: he’s not a good person vik  
Robert: and if he is, he has a shitty way of showing it  


Vik’s fingers come up, threading through Joseph’s cornsilk-colored locks. They’re soft and silky and Vik grips onto them tighter. That’s when everything flips sideways, Joseph moving them so Vik’s back smacks up against the beach chair underneath them. He crawls overtop Vik, hands against his waist, mouth working hard against the other man’s. Vik feels light-headed when he feels warm fingers touch his bare skin, sliding up under his shirt. His other hand knots in Joseph’s polo, gasping as the other bites down on his bottom lip.

  
Robert: vik  
Robert: vik seriously reply to me  
Robert: vik please say something  


He tilts his head back as Joseph’s lips move lower, leaving wet kisses along his jaw. His mouth moves further down, breathing wet heat against the sensitive dip above his collarbone. And then suddenly, teeth dig into the skin around the bone, eliciting a loud moan from Vik. His cheeks flush hot, mind flashing back to the night of the ghost tour. 

“Stop.”

Joseph pauses for a moment, body going stiff. He pulls back, looking at Vik with hazy eyes. “No biting?”

_Oh god._ Oh god it’s exactly the night of the ghost tour. Vik feels sick to his stomach, gently grasping Joseph’s shoulders and pushing him away. “We’re both too drunk and you’re too married and just stop.” He’s starting to shake now, sliding out of the chair and quickly grabbing his jacket and bag from his own chair. “I should go. I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later Joseph.” And before Joseph can even open his mouth, all wide-eyed and dumbfounded, Vik’s closing the door to his office and rushing down the hallway. 

He manages to get a few halls away, breaths coming ragged and shallow. He’s hyperventilating, his whole body feeling too hot. His phone buzzes in his pocket again, and he nearly drops it fumbling with it on the way out of his pants.

  
Vik: I’m here  
Robert: okay  
Robert: you should probably go home  
Vik: Yeah you’re right  


Vik looks around, tears stinging his eyes in a silent threat to spill. He reaches up to rub at them, looking around.

  
Vik: I think I’m lost  
Robert: you got lost going home?  
Vik: No I mean in the church  
Vik: It all looks the same  
Vik: I’m too drunk to be lost robert I think I’m in the twilight zone  
Robert: it’s all a big circle okay just keep walking around until you find the stairs  
Vik: Okay  


Vik silently wonders how Robert knows the layout of the church, or that he was on the second floor for that matter. He’s also too drunk and upset to focus on it, so he does continue to wander around until he eventually finds the steps. He quickly heads down them, slipping a few times but never completely losing his footing. When he gets outside, he stares at his car for a long moment before exiting the parking lot and beginning the walk home.

  
Vik: Okay I’m outside  
Vik: Wow it is cold out here  
Robert: just put your hands in your pockets  
>Vik: How will I text you then  
Robert: that is the cutest thing you’ve ever said to me  
Robert: but seriously just text me when you get home safe  
Vik: Okay  


How was that cute? Vik didn’t really get it, but his brain was basically swimming at the moment, so he wasn’t exactly running at full capacity. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, and takes the twenty-minute walk home as well as possible. He feels pretty frozen by the time he gets home, but Betsy darts to him in excitement. Her tongue is warm and helps with his stiff fingers. He laughs, watching her dart into the front yard and pee on one of his hedges. Once she’s done, she trots back into the house and he closes the door. 

Vik heads back to his bedroom, stripping his clothes off and tossing them aside. They join even more clothes on the floor, and he crawls into his bed. He fumbles with his phone for a moment, only pausing his message to yawn.

  
Vik: I’m home  
Robert: alright chief you should get some rest  
Robert: you’re gonna have a helluva hangover in the morning  
Vik: I have work at 10am I’m fucked  
Robert: yikes  
Vik: Alright I should sleep   
Vik: Goodnight robert   
Robert: gnight  


* * *

_Thursday, September 21st, 2017_

Aside from having to jump out of the shower to vomit twice, Vik makes it to work in one relative piece. It’s an overcast day, so he’s thankful to not have bright sunshine stabbing him in the retinas. The Coffee Spoon is pretty quiet, some soft music playing in the background. He heads to the counter, retrieving his apron and donning it. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Pablo says, pausing to look at Vik. “Ooh, you had a rough night. What’d you get up to after church?”

“I was actually drinking while you guys were watching the movie,” Vik admits, avoiding eye contact. He was supposed to be a responsible dad figure. “And after that, Joseph and I had a few too many margaritas.”

“You and Father Christiansen got wrecked together inside a church?” Pablo wears a wide grin, stifling a laugh. Why did he have to talk so loud? God, Vik’s head is pounding. “While we were watching Finding Nemo, too? Damn.”

“That is a sad movie,” Vik comments, grimacing as he remembers the intro scene. “I need a margarita just to watch it.”

“So…” Pablo starts, beginning to waggle his eyebrows playfully. “It was just you and the youth minister, getting drunk in his office, huh?”

“Why are your eyebrows doing that? Make them stop.”

“I want details.”

“Nothing happened,” Vik says, making a face. Nothing besides a kiss. “We just drank and talked a lot. Why would you think something happened?”

“You don’t know?” Pablo arches his brows, giving a quick glance around to see if they were in the clear. “After the group last night, Lucien was telling me about his uncle Joseph a bit more. Says the guy isn’t exactly one for keeping it in his pants. Lucien says he has no idea why his aunt is even still with the guy since he’s been stepping out on her for years.”

Vik pauses for a long moment, unsure of how to process this information. He knew they had been unhappy, but he had no idea Joseph had been unfaithful. Robert’s warning from last night suddenly makes a little more sense. Mary had probably told him about it, as well as Damien. Could it really be that bad, though? Sure, adultery was awful, but was Joseph doing it often? Maybe it happened years ago? Lucien would have every reason to be angry at Joseph over it, considering he had probably received the information from a bitter Mary. Maybe he was overexaggerating? 

“I mean, I didn’t get all the details. I might be making it sound spicier than it actually is, y’know?” Pablo offers, seeing how lost Vik suddenly looks. “From what I’ve gathered it was only one affair, really, but Lucien didn’t have details. Apparently it happened a long time ago when he was still pretty young.”

“I guess I just didn’t even peg him as that type of guy,” Vik admits, frowning deeply. “I hope he doesn’t still do stuff like that.”

“Lucien said it all happened a while back, so probably not. He has kids and stuff, so he’s probably too busy.” Pablo offers, frowning as well. He reaches out, patting Vik’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’s just your friend, man. I don’t actually think you’re the type to sleep with married people and stuff, seriously. You’re a good dude.”

“Thanks, Pablo.” Vik offers him a forced smile, before ducking around the counter and into the back. Mat is kneading a mound of dough, dreads pulled back into a bun and tongue stuck out in concentration. “Morning, Mat.”

“Rise and shine, baby!” Mat says, flashing a grin that shows off all his white teeth. “You look a little hungover.”

“Nah, not at all. I totally did not drink too much last night.” Vik jokes, waving his hand a bit. “Seriously, though. I did drink too much. I was rereading my texts from last night and at some point I got lost in the church and told Robert I thought I was stuck in The Twilight Zone.”

Mat laughs at that, rolling the dough around and beginning to shape it into a ball. He moves it into a bowl, covering it with a layer of saran wrap and leaving it to rise. He turns to the commercial sink to wash his hands, a dread falling from behind his ear and into his face. “That place is a total maze. I’ve only been to Joseph’s office twice in all the years I’ve lived in Maple Bay. And each time I needed Joseph to lead me back downstairs.”

“Imagine trying to navigate it while you’re several tequila shots deep.”

“I’m not sure how you made it out alive.” Mat begins another batch of batter, pouring flour, sugar, baking powder, and a little salt into a bowl. He uses a rubber spatula to mix it all around, before adding some milk, butter, eggs, and vanilla. He folds it all together, moving it to a stand mixer to properly combine all the ingredients. He starts adding blueberries in batches, turning on the mixer between deposits. “What’s in a Chance the Frapper?”

Vik pauses for a moment, wracking his brain for the answer. “Iced coffee blended up, syrup of whatever flavor the customer wants, topped with whipped cream and a cherry and more syrup.”

“Good. What’s the difference between Iced T and an Iced Teagan and Sara?”

“Iced T is plain, less sweet. Iced Teagan and Sara comes in fruit flavors, can be blended, and tends be to sweeter.”

“You’re doing good.” Mat grins, beginning to spoon his batter into cupcake liners in a muffin tray. “You’ll have all the recipes down in no time.”

“I’ve been cramming.” Vik admits, shrugging. “I don’t want you to regret giving me this job. Hiring me just because I’m your friend didn’t exactly qualify me.”

“You worry too much.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“You’ve got me there.” Mat says, looking a little sheepish. He puts the muffins in the oven, setting a timer and checking something on one of the wire cooling racks. “I’m about ninety percent worry, and ten percent coffee.”

“I’d say I’m about sixty percent worry, ten percent random crying, twenty percent coffee, and twenty percent bad at math.”

Mat pauses for a moment, adding up the totals in his head before laughing. “That’s pretty good.”

“I’m proud of it.” Vik admits, opting to go ahead and wash the dishes that are beginning to stack up from Mat’s cooking. Mat looks like he’s about to tell Vik not to worry about it, but Vik quickly reminds him that he works there and Mat is paying him to be productive. 

The rest of the day goes relatively well. Vik’s headache subsides, mostly because of the coffee Mat makes him and Pablo keeping his voice down. He gets to help put things in the baked goods display, and has a nice conversation with some woman while Pablo makes her a drink. Lucien and Pablo have a conversation about some band they’re seeing on Friday, and Vik has to admit it’s cute seeing how excited they both are. Young love was always adorable. 

He opts to stay late, which Mat argues with him about, but Vik says he doesn’t want to go home yet anyway. So he stays until closing, helps Mat tidy up for the night. Mat sends him home with some leftover muffins from the day, and the two of them walk to the church to get Vik’s car and he drives them both home.

“See you later!” Mat calls, walking next door to his house. Vik waves at him, and heads inside his own home. Betsy rushes him, ready for belly rubs. He laughs, indulging her for a few minutes before flopping down on the couch. She jumps up into his lap, and the two of them watch some reruns of Big Sister. 

Vik isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but he awakes to the sound of his phone ringing. He fumbles for a moment, digging it out of his pocket and answering it. “Hello?”

“Hey dad! Were you sleeping?”

“Oh, yeah. Fell asleep on the couch.” Vik sits up, yawning and stretching. Betsy stirs a bit, but doesn’t move. “How are you doing, Panda?”

“I’m good.” It’s quiet for a moment. “A little homesick, though. The leaves aren’t even changing colors, here. And it’s still too hot. According to some of the local kids, fall like, doesn’t even exist here. And winter is just sixty degrees accompanied by some wind. Like, that’s so dumb. Fall is the best season, and I’m gonna miss it.”

“Aww, I’m sorry honey.” Vik genuinely was. He wished he could somehow make it fall at HIA just for Amanda, which is entirely unreasonable and unrealistic, but a dad can dream. “At least you’ll get to come home and see some snow for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sounds upset. Vik has a feeling it’s about more than just the weather, but he isn’t sure if he should press. 

“You know honey, you can tell me anything. No matter what it is.”

“I know, dad.”

“I know you know, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it again.” He sighs, lazily petting Betsy in his lap. “I saw your hair. It looks really good.”

“Oh yeah!! I was going to send you pics but I totally forgot. I love it, like so much. Charli did an awesome job.” She starts rambling now, talking about how long the process took and how bad the dye smelt. Vik listens to her drone on and on, hanging onto every word. He missed this so much. And then too soon, Amanda is saying goodbye. “I gotta go, dad. Charli and I are studying with the girls next door for a test we have on Friday.”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.” And then the line clicks, and she’s gone. Vik sighs, putting his phone down and frowning. He rubs at Betsy’s ears for a little while, trying to cheer himself up. At least he had a day off tomorrow, so nobody would yell at him for staying in bed too late. 

So Vik goes to bed, but finds himself unable to sleep. He cries for a while, settling down into the sheets. His chest is tight and his heart hurts and his eyes sting. His fingers knot in his own hair, trying to calm his own breathing. He almost doesn’t hear his phone buzz on the nightstand, but then it goes off again, and again.

  
Robert: look at this   
Robert: i have messaged you every day this week and haven’t disappeared yet  
Robert: i'm like a totally different person  
Vik: Hey  
Robert: what’s wrong  
Vik: I’m fine  


The three dots appear, disappear, and reappear. Vik watches, imagining Robert squinting at his phone, typing and erasing several replies. He looks frustrated, brows knit up together and mouth in a firm line. The sudden, loud ringing coming from his phone almost makes Vik have a heart attack. He answers the call, placing it to his ear. “Yeah?” His voice cracks. Goddammit. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Robert says, and Vik had no idea how much he missed that voice until this moment. His chest feels like it’s being crushed. He can’t speak. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I don’t know. Thought maybe you’d like some company.” And yup, he’s crying again. “Shit, okay, you should probably talk about it, though.”

“I’m just overemotional,” Vik finally manages, and he’s annoyed over how wrecked his own voice sounds. He sinks down into the sheets, legs curling up closer to his chest. “She’s just a phone call away but it still feels like I’ve lost her.” _And you._ Vik doesn’t say that part, but it’s repeating like a mantra in his brain.

Robert grunts a bit, a noise Vik was very used to. Half of Robert’s conversations involved various grunting noises and pointed looks. He doesn’t speak right away, but Vik doesn’t mind. Him just being there is helping to ground him. 

“I miss you.” It’s probably not the right thing to say, and Vik knows it. It probably just makes Robert feel guilty, and he feels awful. Part of him just needs to know Robert misses him too. That he’s not the only one in this still holding onto the idea of the other. 

It’s quiet for a long moment, before Robert quietly speaks again. “I’ll be home soon, okay?” The raw sound in his voice makes Vik’s heart flutter a little, and he sucks in a deep breath to calm himself. 

“Okay.” Vik relaxes into the sheets, keeping the phone to his ear. “Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, of course.” Robert says quietly, and Vik can hear him shifting around wherever he is. 

Vik settles into the sheets, putting Robert on speaker and setting the phone next to his head. He closes his eyes, and it only takes him a few minutes to fall asleep. 

“You asleep?” Robert asks quietly, taking the lack of reply as an answer. “Guess that’s a yes.” He pauses for a long moment, debating whether or not he should hang up. “I miss you too. A lot more than I’m letting on, I guess.” He sighs, silent again for another long minute. “It fucking sucks, but… I did the right thing for once in my life. That shit back in June, telling you that we couldn’t be together yet… I wanted so badly to just… Be with you. But… That wouldn’t have been fair to you. I wasn’t in a good place and I just would’ve fucked it up and hurt you. And I don’t want to ever do that. I think the me of the past would’ve jumped right into a relationship despite the consequences but… Fuck,” he says, voice hitching a bit. Vik wasn’t even awake to hear this, so why was he struggling so much? “But there’s just something about you that makes me want to be a better person.” He reaches up, wiping at his wet eyes. “Okay, fuck me, I should hang up already. I’m just talking to myself now… Night, Vik.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo i rly rly love this chapter tbh. next chapter is also super good and involves getting to know mary! thatll come out on monday


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: some pumpkins, a mean girls reference, mary giving a history lesson, some drunk texts to amanda sent from on board a yacht, and val and amanda text each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love mary so much? shes so good? im so happy this is her intro into the story bc its so good and shes so good.

_Friday, October 5th, 2017_

The next two weeks of Vik’s life pass in a relatively normal fashion. He goes to work, he walks Betsy, he goes to counseling, he drinks with Joseph, he exercises with Craig, he texts Robert, and he misses Amanda. Joseph doesn’t mention anything about the kiss, so Vik doesn’t bring it up. He limits himself to two drinks at their impromptu counsel sessions, and Joseph exercises restraint as well. Things seem relatively normal.

And now he found himself here, seated at a table in The Coffee Spoon that’s covered in a thin layer of newspaper. He has an assortment of different sharp objects laid out next to him, ranging from a scalpel to a carving knife. There’s a mess of red splattered on his fingers and shirt, and he’s hard at work… Carving and painting pumpkins. 

He was only partially channeling his inner Dexter Morgan as he scoops pumpkin guts out of another gourd and empties them into a bowl. He grabs his pencil, beginning to lightly sketch out a design for some eyes, a nose, and a mouth. He glances up to see what Lucien is doing with his own pumpkin, and is instantly disheartened. The kid has literally carved the image of a howling wolf out of his pumpkin. Way cooler than his cliché Jack-O-Lanterns. 

When Lucien finishes up with his current pumpkin, he sets it aside and looks up. “Pablo, let’s switch.” Pablo nods, leaving his spot behind the register to come decorate some pumpkins. The two bump their sides together in a way that Vik recognizes as a longing to touch but simultaneously being young and awkward and not knowing what to do. 

Pablo plops down in the seat Lucien was just in, taking a bare pumpkin from the batch that Mat had brought in that morning. He sets to work, opting for the paints instead of carving. Vik watches him start the first layer of neon stripes. He sighs, looking back to his own creation. He longs to wrap it in saran wrap and stab it a few times. _Damn Dexter for his serial killer influences, and damn everyone else for their superior pumpkin decorating skills._

It’s surprisingly slow for a Friday, a few customers lingering around the café at any given point. There was the usual bunch of regulars. Jaxon, a musician in his early twenties who comes in at least three times a week to idly strum at his ukulele and write things down. Janae, a college student who runs some online fashion blog. She always orders a Chai Antwoord and a scone to have while she sits at her laptop for hours on end. Kimmy, a woman with ear lobes stretched larger than Vik’s fist and green hair. She’s at least fifty years old, and she’s lightyears cooler than Vik could ever hope to be. The Coffee Spoon is quiet, the soft sound of music playing in the background. There’s idle chitchat between a few customers, but it’s all pleasant white noise in the back of Vik’s mind. 

His next pumpkin comes out a little better than the other two, and he heaves a sigh. Pablo is adding sparkles to his now, and it look gorgeous. He was totally going to get the counter spot Mat promised to the best pumpkin decorator. Vik could already imagine Pablo’s pumpkin on the counter, catching the eye of every customer who came in. Saran wrap. Stab stab stab.

His phone finally buzzes, dragging his thoughts away from his pumpkin murder fantasies. He removes his gloves, relieved to have the sticky plastic gone from his fingers. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, expecting Robert or Amanda, and being surprised.

  
Mary: Where are you?  
Vik: Work  
Mary: What time do you get off?  
Vik: Half an hour  
Mary: I’ll pick you up.  
Vik: Why?  


Mary reads the message, but doesn’t reply. Vik sighs, putting it away and standing up. He cleans up his workstation the best he can manage, bringing the pumpkin guts to the back where Mat pops them in the fridge to use later. “Pablo is going to win the pumpkin contest.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mat admits, chuckling. “He’ll probably be here late just painting pumpkins. Not that I mind, though. The more around the shop, the better. Monday we’ll probably start hanging up the rest of the Halloween decorations.”

“I hear you have good taste in Halloween décor.”

“You betcha,” Mat smiles, taking a bite of a muffin. “I have one of those plastic skeletons I put out every year, and I dress it up in an apron and visor with the Starbucks logo on them.”

Vik snorts, picturing the dead Starbucks employee that sits in The Coffee Spoon every October. “That is hilarious.”

The two chat for a few minutes longer before Vik hangs up his apron for the night. It’s eight now, meaning closing time. And Mary time, apparently. He steps out from the back, pausing at the sight of Pablo and Lucien leaning across the counter and kissing one another. They don’t seem to notice him until Vik coughs awkwardly, and the two of them break apart. Lucien’s face is red, and Pablo is grinning so wide Vik thinks it must hurt his face. “I’m heading out for the night.”

“Night, Vik.” Pablo waves, watching Vik make his way outside before leaning in to pull Lucien in for another kiss.

Vik spots Mary’s car right away, walking across the dark parking lot and pulling the door open. She looks up, flashing him a grin. “Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.”

Vik scoffs, sliding into the passenger seat. “I get the reference, obviously. But I’ve never actually seen Mean Girls.”

“Are you serious?” Mary looks at him, her expressions portraying something that seems almost offended. “I’m telling Robert and he is going to never forgive you.”

“Does Robert actually care that much about Mean Girls?” Vik pauses, quickly shaking his head. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Mean Girls is exactly something that Robert would care too much about.”

“He took Val to see it in theaters when it first came out.” Mary adds, pulling out of the parking lot and starting down the road. “She was thirteen, I think. Then they went to see it again a week later because they loved it so much. I’ve watched that movie with Robert too many times to count.”

That is, by far, the cutest thing ever. He quietly wonders if Val and Robert would quote movies back and forth to one another like him and Amanda did. “How long have you known Robert?”

“Too fucking long.” Mary snorts, wracking her brain for answers. “Joseph and I moved here in the summer of 2005. Robert, Marilyn, and Val were already living next door when we got there. They moved here when Val was ten, so… 2001? Marilyn and I hit it off immediately, and of course Robert and I got along. We spent basically every moment of free time in each other’s houses.” Mary snorts, thinking back to the old days. She had been nervous about the clean cut, suburban lifestyle that Joseph was trying to rope her into, but she loved him and was willing to try. And then there were the Smalls, rich, suburban, and barely sober. They could pass, sitting through church events or social gatherings without anyone suspecting their crude sense of humor and disdain for the norm. They were everything Mary could’ve wished for. Her and Joseph could put on their day faces, attending and helping with the church, and then spend the nights fulfilling their urges to be wild. 

“Marilyn and I were best friends from the moment we met.” Mary starts talking, unsure why she’s going down this emotional road tonight. Maybe it’s just Robert’s absence wearing on her, and the guy in her passenger seat was probably the only one who understood that. “I was twenty-five and she was thirty-one. The age difference didn’t get in our way, though. The four of us, Marilyn and I, Robert and Joseph, we’d have dinner together most nights. We’d barbeque together and Marilyn and I would chatter while Joey and Robert would cook and Val would sit on her phone and text her friends and ignore all of us. It was one of the best times of my life.”

“…What was she like?” Vik inquires, trying to swallow all the information being spewed in his direction. Robert and Marilyn, along with Mary and Joseph, had been inseparable friends. What had happened? 

“She was extravagant,” Mary says, shaking her head. “Both her and Rob came from money, even if their families had very different ways of acquiring it. You could tell, just looking at her, that she was more put together than you’d ever be. Perfect clothes, hair, makeup. Robert was such a contrast to her, but in the same way Joseph was a contrast to me. Robert was rough around the edges and couldn’t pull off the clean-cut persona as well, but that never stopped them. They were passionate and so deeply in love. Been together since high school, actually. She was a ritzy, private school girl and he came from a family of dirty money.

“I remember her telling me how the first time she had met him. Said it was like he was a light source and she was a moth. Something about him sucked her in and once she had a taste she never wanted anything else. Her parents didn’t approve, but they thought it would pass, you know? Their good little girl was just having her rebellious phase. So Marilyn and Robert kept it quiet, sneaking out at night to spend time together. 

“After they graduated high school, they spent every moment of the summer together. Her parents were so excited to ship her off to some fancy college halfway across the country so that she would leave behind the bad boy she was dating. Except she didn’t. She refused to go and told her parents she was pregnant. They thought she was just fucking with them but… Nope. It was July and she was already four months along. 

“Robert asked her to marry him the second he found out, believe it or not. And she agreed to it in an instant. Marilyn’s parents were livid, and they barely spoke to her for a few years. Marilyn moved in with Robert and his parents and they had Val and… They were not ready to be parents, at all. So, Robert’s mom took care of Val for the first few years of her life, while Robert and Marilyn would spend their time getting wasted. Robert went to prison for a year at some point, Marilyn started doing coke. It was a mess.

“Then, when Val was ten, Robert’s mom had a stroke and died. Val had been the only one home and… It fucked her up, I think. Kids shouldn’t see that kind of shit. It really wrecked Robert, too. It was sort of a wakeup call for Marilyn and him. 

“They wanted to leave behind the money and the drugs and alcohol and just… Settle down, raise their kid. Do things right. They ended up in Maple Bay. It was quiet town, no big money or large drug problem. Seems like a good place to raise a kid. So, the two of them tried to lay off the sauce a bit, but from what I was told, that didn’t last long. 

“She says Robert started drinking again first. And she says she can’t blame him. When they both sobered up… It was like they didn’t know each other anymore. Marilyn loved him, though. And he loved her. So they didn’t get too bad, never drinking so much that they couldn’t function day-to-day. They were just lost, trying to figure out who the other had become. 

“She… She saw a lot in him. A lot that he doesn’t seen, you know? From the day she met him, she knew he was a troublemaker but… She knew there was more to him, and she wanted so badly to help him draw it out. Part of me feels a bit bitter when I think that maybe she was more in love with the person she thought Robert could be than she was with the person he was.”

It’s quiet for a long moment, Mary’s eyes pulling downwards to her lap. Vik isn’t sure when they had stopped moving, or parked. He had been so engrossed in the story being told to him. He didn’t know a whole lot about Robert’s past, and he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with curiosity. 

“Let’s go,” Mary finally says, moving to get out of the vehicle. Vik follows suit, allowing her to lead him into Jim and Kim’s. Neil waves as the two of them approach the bar, Mary ordering them each two shots of whiskey. Vik helps her carry them to their usual booth in the back, settling down into the leather bench. Mary takes one of the shots as soon as she’s sitting, but doesn’t move for the other one.

“So…” Vik starts, following her lead and taking the first shot. It burns on the way down, but it’s a familiar sensation. Not nearly as startling when he had first started drinking with Robert and Mary. “You said that… Robert and Marilyn reminded you of you and Joseph.”

“Yup,” she says, fingers clasping around her second shot. She doesn’t take it though, just swirling the liquid around in the glass. “Let’s just say that Joseph is the Marilyn of this situation, and I’m the Robert. He was a good boy, but he was sick of it. I was… Never a good kid, but my parents didn’t ask me to be good. They just asked me to be _me_. So, I did the college thing, finished that up, and hitchhiked around the country for a little while. Met Joey when I was twenty. He’s not the kind of guy I’d ever look twice at, but… He had a thing for me. I ended up staying in the same area for a few months, waiting for him to finish up college. Dunno why I did it. Something about the way he spoke to me just… Got me. I fell for him hard.

“After he finished up school, we were off. Nights in sleazy motel rooms or sleeping on park benches. We’d buy bus tickets together to get around. I remember one time we couldn’t afford a room but we both really needed a shower, so we broke into the back room of a motel and stole some of the little sample soaps they give you, right? And we got into their pool at like, two in the morning. It was mid-January, so we’re freezing our asses off while trying to wash our hair in a nasty motel pool.”

She’s smiling now, a youthful touch in her eyes. Vik doesn’t see this look very often, or at all for that matter. This was the first time he had ever seen Mary with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “His parents were pretty relentless, though. Wanted him to come home, rejoin the church, settle down. After a few years, Joey talked me into it. Said we could still travel, still have fun, but this way we would always have a place to call home. No more sleeping outside or getting lost or having to make five dollars last for a week’s worth of food. I was scared, believe it or not. But he kept telling me how great it’d be and… And, we did it. His parents paid off our house on the cul-de-sac and offered up money to help us do renovations. Even offered to pay for the wedding as long as we’d have it at the church.

“So, we got married, and we redid the whole house to our own liking. We met Marilyn and Robert and… And for a while I was so happy. Joseph had been right about things being great. It was… The best time of my life.”

She takes her second shot, nodding to Vik. “Go get us refills, kid.”

Vik nods, taking his shot before gathering up the glasses and heading back to the bar. Neil refills them, giving Vik a look. “Mary doing okay? She’s been quiet the last few nights. Actually paying for her own drinks, too.”

Vik makes a face, letting out a sigh. “She’ll be okay, I think. She’s just nostalgic.”

“Ahh,” Neil nods, wiping down the bar with a cloth. “Talking about Marilyn again? She’s been missing Robert. Keeps talkin’ about him.”

Vik nods, frowning a little. “Yeah, I miss him too. I’ll keep an eye on her.” He reassures Neil, finally heading back to the table and setting the shots down. Him and Mary take another one, before setting back in their seats.

“Where was I?” Mary finally says after a long moment, running a hand through her sandy hair. She finally settles for pulling it all back into a ponytail behind her head, allowing Vik to properly take in her facial features. She’s younger than her eyes suggest. Her cheek bones are high set, and her nose is a gentle curve down her face. The usual line that appears between her brows is gone, her features relaxed. Her eyes seem wider, browner, deeper almost. Then it’s all gone, just as fast as it came. Her features harden, eyes going dark and downcast. 

“When Marilyn died, I think a part of me did as well. As sappy as that shit sounds, anyway. I didn’t handle her death well at all, and neither did Robert. I ignored him. He was like a constant reminder that she was gone. And things got rough with Joseph. He wanted to help, to make me feel better, but I didn’t want to talk or let him console me. I wanted to ignore it all.

“About six months after she died, things were going bad. I had been ignoring Robert, and Joseph and I weren’t getting along. He had put his energy is trying to help Robert, who definitely needed it more than I did. He lost a wife, his daughter had just left for college, he was alone and Marilyn probably hates my guts for not being there for him.” She lets out a hard sigh, taking both of her shots in the same gulp. 

“Back home, my mom got sick. Dames had moved into the cul-de-sac but he had a young child and a job and couldn’t trek back home to help. So I did, and I stayed there for a whole year. Mom couldn’t walk anymore, and I had to help them renovate the house so she could get her wheelchair around. That only took about six months, and they told me I could go home. But… I didn’t want to, not yet. Being with them brought back a part of me I think I forgot about. I stayed another few months, and… It was exactly what I fucking needed. When I came back to Maple Bay, I was the happiest I had been since before Marilyn died.

“And somehow, things seemed good back home. Joey and I patched things up and I thought we were going to be okay. And Robert came around a lot, and even he seemed better. He wasn’t drinking the days away and he was responsive and social. The two of us clicked back together and… It was good. It was so good for a long while.

“Until…” She pauses, eyes casting elsewhere. She reaches up, waving her hand towards Neil. He catches her gesture, coming over and refilling their shots. 

“I’ll cover your tab for tonight, guys.” Neil says, waving his hand as Vik tries to protest.

“Neil, I’ll pay for the drinks. It’s fine.”

“Nope, not taking your money.” Neil says, shaking his head and just setting the bottle of Jack on the table for them to help themselves. “You can just owe me a favor later.” He says with a shrug, quickly shuffling his way back to the bar.

“Neil’s too fucking good to me,” Mary says, sliding her shots towards Vik. She opts to take the bottle, taking a long swig from it. “He’s been here longer than Robert or I. His daddy owned this place before him, and he would sit at the bar and do his homework when he was nine.” She snorts at the mental image of a little Neil at the bar, asking some drunk patron to help with his division problems. 

Vik is listening, yes, but Mary can see he’s waiting for her to continue. She takes another drink, trying to choose her next words carefully. She hadn’t planned on giving this guy a history lesson tonight, but then again, the real reason she dragged him along wasn’t pretty. “Until I found out that Joseph was sleeping around. I was angry and I was hurt and… And I was fucking pregnant, believe it or not. Worse goddamn timing, really. Part of me wanted to just leave, to never come back, to go back home and just never speak to Joseph again.” That wasn’t entirely true, though. “And part of me didn’t want to even tell him I knew. Part of me wanted to just pretend that… Everything was alright.” 

She takes another drink, longer than she should. Vik would be walking her home tonight, no doubt. “And I fucking did just that. I didn’t say anything. Because everyone seemed so happy so I just let it keep going on behind my back. Joseph was so happy I was pregnant, so excited to be a dad. I wasn’t excited. I was terrified. I saw what Robert and Marilyn did to Val and I’m still terrified that my kids are going to grow up hating me.” She stops for a moment, trying to backtrack her thoughts. She did not need to get this emotional tonight, but dammit, the alcohol was flowing and the floodgates had failed.

“Joseph didn’t find out I knew about the affair until after he ended it, and I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to go back to pretending that everything was fine and that I wasn’t miserable. I had Chris, and it should’ve been a great moment of my life but I just… Didn’t feel anything for a while. It was like that with all the kids, really. Joseph knew how to just… Love them, naturally. He knew how to connect and bond with them and they liked him. But that shit didn’t happen for me. I should’ve been amazed that I grew a human inside my body and now it’s my world and I was more uncomfortable than ever. Doctor always told me postpartum depression was pretty normal, that I wasn’t the only one who went through this, that it would get better…

“I love my kids, Vik. I want them to be happy and healthy and grow up and be way happier than Joey or I ever have been. But I just… I don’t have the energy to be a mom. The most I can do is make sure they don’t accidentally kill themselves, but beyond that it’s hard to motivate myself. I want to be a good mom, make it obvious that I love them, make them love me. But I can’t.” Her voice cracks a bit at the last part, and she has to take a deep breath to try and steady herself. It’s not working, though. Her eyes burn with hot tears, and she quickly scrubs them away with her sweater sleeve.

“Mary…” Vik’s voice is soft, his hand reaching across the table to gently take hers. She doesn’t pull back, just letting him rub small circles against her skin. “Your kids do love you, okay? And like, I get it. I get how hard it is to just function sometimes. I know that after Alex died, I was useless. I wouldn’t leave bed and I barely ate. It was the worst time of my life, but it was also the worst time of Amanda’s. And I wasn’t there for her at all,” his own voice cracks, tears starting down his cheeks. “I lost myself for a long time when I lost him and I’ll never forgive myself for it. Amanda had lost one parent, but she must’ve felt like she lost two. It took me a long time to pull myself together, to feel human again. To show her how much I love her. I’ll never forgive myself for that time I lost with her, and reconnecting afterwards was hard. It was really fucking hard and she was scared. But I did it because I love her more than anything else in this world. It won’t fix itself overnight, but your kids are young. They’re really young and they love you so much. It’s not too late to fix things with them.”

Mary stares at him, her gaze blank but a constant stream of tears running down her face. She swallows hard, the gulp in her throat audible. She takes a long, deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m so fucking awful,” she says suddenly, shaking her head. “You’re here trying to make me feel better when honestly I brought you here to ask if you were sleeping with my husband.”

Vik pauses, eyes widening a degree. He feels a little sick, and a lot hurt. He knows it isn’t directed at him, though. Mary has every right to distrust Joseph after everything that’s happened, and he was now spending a lot of alone time with Joseph throughout the week. “No. He’s counseling me and we drink margaritas and just talk. That’s it.”

Mary sits there for a long moment, eyes glued to the table. She can tell she’s hurt him, accusing her friend of something like this. She couldn’t help it, though. When it came down to the nitty gritty, Vik and Robert were similar in a lot of ways. It just seemed like Vik got enough emotional vulnerability for the both of them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Vik says, frowning and squeezing Mary’s fingers. “…Did you know the person Joseph was cheating on you with? I know that maybe that’s none of my business, but… I just get the feeling it was someone you trusted.”

Fuck him. Fuck this guy for just seeing through her like this. She feels so exposed and vulnerable, dirty laundry aired for him to see. “Yeah, I knew them.” Part of her felt compelled to tell him, but it wasn’t her secret to share anymore. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, alright? I just want to drink.”

“Okay,” Vik says after a moment of silence, deciding not to push. Mary was definitely uncomfortable, and he had been used to this with Robert. The two of them drink in silence for a long few minutes, not speaking or looking at one another. That is, until Mary suddenly stands up. “Are we leaving?”

“Yeah,” Mary says, pulling a few bills out of her wallet and dropping them on the table as a tip to Neil. “Let’s go.” Vik nods, throwing some of his own money on the table before following Mary out. Her makeup is smeared, and he notes to ask her if she’d like to come in his house and fix it before going back home. Joseph would probably ask a lot of questions. 

Except when they get outside, Mary starts in the wrong direction. “Um, we live that way.”

“Not going home, sailor.” She says, swaying along as she walks down the sidewalk. Vik fumbles after her, holding her steady when she almost falls while trying to ditch her pumps. They hang from her fingers as the two of them continue to walk in the cool Autumn air. When they approach the marina, Vik is genuinely confused. It’s technically closed for the night, but Mary just waltzes in like she owns the place. 

“Mary, where are we going?” Vik inquires, trailing after her nervously. Sure, the worst that would happen is a security guard would catch them and tell them to leave, but still. Vik wasn’t good at this whole troublemaker lifestyle. Was it too late to move again and find friends who liked doing things that weren’t illegal?

“We’re almost there,” she says, her voice a little slurred and very sing-song. She starts down the boardwalk, the crash of waves and squawk of shorebirds the only noises audible. She’s going to where the boats are docked, and Vik has a little heart attack over the idea of Mary wanting to commit some grand theft boat. 

“We aren’t going to drunk hijack a boat, right?” He calls after her, watching her pass the little fishing boats and skiffs. There’s one that reminds Vik of those old tugboats from black and white cartoons. Mary doesn’t reply to his question other than laughing, and begins down a boardwalk full of boats that cost more than Vik’s own house. They just get bigger the farther they walk, and soon enough Mary stops. She’s taking in a large yacht with the name ‘St. Peter’ scripted across the side in blue font. “Mary, we’re stealing a yacht, aren’t we? We’re going to jail.”

She snorts, taking the available ramp up onto the boat’s dock. Vik follows her, his stomach twisted in so many knots that he isn’t sure if the alcohol, anxiety, or the swaying of the waves is going to make him throw up first. She saunters on board, motioning for Vik to sit at a table that’s been attached to the flooring. He does not sit, watching her disappear into the boat’s cabin. They’re fucked. Vik takes his phone out.

  
Vik: Manda I just want you to know that I love you and that I may go to jail  
Amanda: omfg what are you doing????  
Vik: Mary and I are very drunk and I think she’s trying to steal this yacht  
Amanda: dude that sounds awesome  
Amanda: how are the police gonna catch you if youre sailing away on a yacht?  
Vik: I have no idea but we can’t hide out on the yacht forever   
Vik: There’s probably not a lot of food   
Amanda: dad the entire ocean is full of fish which are edible  
Vik: I doubt there’s fishing equipment on this yacht panda  
Amanda: you guys are bad at this boat jacking thing wow  


Mary comes back at this point, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and what seems to be a photograph frame in the other. She sets the frame down, allowing Vik to take in the image. It’s of Mary and Joseph, maybe ten years younger or so, in front of this boat. It takes a long moment for it to click that this is the yacht Joseph has mentioned owning once or twice. She cracks open the bottle of wine, taking a sip from it and handing it to Vik. He takes a sip, his embarrassment deep seated.

“So, I may have told my daughter that we were going to jail for stealing a boat.” He admits, feeling sheepish. He takes another long drink of wine and hands it back to Mary. 

“I mean,” Mary says, shrugging her shoulders and taking a seat. “We could still steal it. I have a key.” 

“Mary, we are both way too drunk to drive a boat.”

“I drove a plane while drunk once.”

_________________________________________________________________

  
Amanda: hey you there  
Val: yeah.  
Val: whats up kid?  
Amanda: nothing much tbh my dads being a doof  
Val: doesnt your dad live in a constant state of being a doof?  
Amanda: lmao ok true but like idk he’s drunk  
Val: does your dad drunk text too?  
Amanda: omfg usually not but him and mary are apparently stealing a yacht or something idk  
Val: grand larceny. nice.  
Val: dunno why they’d steal a yacht when joseph owns one though.  
Amanda: …oh my fucking god my dad is a major doof  
Val: he thinks theyre stealing a yacht but its just josephs huh  
Amanda: probably jfc i was actually nervous mary might talk him into boat theft  
Val: marys a sharp one. even when shes trashed.  
Val: plus she could just call my dad and ask him how to not get caught.  
Val: im sure hed have some good pointers.  
Amanda: good bc my dad will probably need them at some point he does not know how to commit crimes  
Val: how are our dads even a thing? theyre like complete opposites.  
Amanda: idk i kinda get it? like robert reminds me a little of my late dad   
Val: really?  
Amanda: yeah like dad was always the taller kinda standoffish dude who could scare someone away with a look but he’d never hurt a fly  
Amanda: him and my dad were always weirdly different like dad opened up with me and my other dad but like he wasn’t a super emotional guy   
Amanda: used to drive dad nuts when dad just wanted to be alone when he knew something was wrong  
Val: alright if youre going to make a habit of talking about both of your dads like this you gotta number them or something.   
Amanda: lmaooo sorry  
Amanda: my dad was also super into conspiracy theories  
Val: the moon landing was bullshit.  
Amanda: well duh   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alex was a babe? just tall quiet guy who smoked a lot and believed in chem trails and loved his child more than anything else in the world. alex's interactions were a solid 50% finger guns. i love him so much.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: whittling, some great halloween costumes, craig in a onesie, a lot of knives, gay spiderman, and a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a lot of filler and silly stuff, but its more bonding time with mary so its all good. it also leads to some Good plot shit next chapter. also sorry if this chapter is formatted weird im having some issues with the format rn

_Saturday, October 6th, 2017_

  
Robert: val told me that you and mary got wasted last night and you got scared that she was gonna make you commit illegal acts  
Vik: How does Val know???  
Robert: her and amanda talk a lot apparently  
Robert: i didn’t know about that either until val was talking about it this morning  
Vik: So our daughters are just conspiring behind our backs?  
Robert: they fucking better be  
Robert: i didn’t raise my daughter to not plot against me  
Robert: but okay what kind of illegal shit did mary try to force you to do  
Robert: val didn’t elaborate because she was too busy laughing  
Vik: I’m saying nothing more for fear of incriminating myself  
Robert: attaboy  


  
Mary: Hey kid just a heads up that our annual Halloween party is on Saturday, the 28th.  
Vik: Got it  
Mary: The theme was my idea and it is glorious. We all have to dress up as each other.  
Vik: What?  
Mary: We have to dress up as someone else in the cul-de-sac. I’m making a chart so no two people are dressed up as Hugo or something like that. I’m being Dames. I signed you up to be Robert because I’m an asshole and I want to see what you do with that.  
Vik: Mary, the fact that you’ve robbed me of the chance of dressing up as Craig with shittily drawn on abs is unforgiveable.   
Mary: Suck it up, loser. Besides, Ernest already had the same idea and claimed Craig off the bat.  
Vik: Dammit. Guess it’s no surprise a kid named Ernest Hemingway is a genius.  


____________________________________________

_Saturday, October 28th, 2017_

The temporary dye kinda smells, but Vik isn’t going to argue. Mary did her hair first, and it’s beginning to dry. The black looks really good, and there’s no patches where she missed some of her sandy locks. When she redirects Vik to the shower, he bends over and lets her rinse all the excess dye out of his hair. It takes a few minutes to water to run clear, and Vik’s back aches a little from leaning forward for so long. Mary sits him back down, fluffing his hair dry with a towel. 

He had been nervous about taking his shirt off at first, considering his top surgery scars were still somewhat noticeable, but Mary hadn’t made any comments. He knew Damien was trans, so Mary was probably pretty well versed in things like this. Still, part of him felt relieved that Mary wasn’t treating it like an abnormal thing.

She leaves the towel draped over his shoulders, turning to start digging through her makeup bag. “I have a lot of work to do on both of us, okay? So just promise me you won’t rub your face or eyes when I’m done and fuck it all up.”

“I will try my hardest.”

“Guess that’ll have to do.” She huffs, setting the makeup aside for a moment to retrieving a blow dryer from under the sink. It only takes her five minutes to dry Vik’s hair, but she groans a little by the time she’s finished. “It just. Floofed.”

“Yeah, it does that.”

She rolls her eyes, reopening the cabinet under the sink and pulling out a straightening iron. She lets it heat up while she dries her own hair, carefully brushing it downward so it falls flat and straight on either side of her head. She finally puts the blow dryer away, and gets to work on straightening Vik’s curly puff of hair. It looks kind of weird by the time she’s done, but she reassures him that she’s not finished.

She grabs a plastic bag from the sink, shuffling through it before producing a can of temporary dye spray. In grey. She gets a piece of paper, placing it against Vik’s head and pulling a few strands loose over it. She sprays them, the excess dye ending up on the paper. She continues this, trying to recreate the salt and pepper appearance of Robert’s own hair. Once that part is done, she puts some gel between her fingers and works on giving him that ‘I just woke up at three in the afternoon after drinking too much and getting into a knife fight with Big Foot the previous night and I also don’t own a comb’ look. When all is said and done, Vik is pretty damn impressed. 

“Mary, this looks so good.”

“If you were taller, people would probably mistake you for Robert from a distance.” 

“That’s all I need.” Vik laughs, and does his best to hold still through the next few stages. Mary has a lot of palettes and brushes out, and he knows what some of the stuff is. He had a daughter after all, and plus those makeup videos were just so damn interesting to watch. He could binge them on YouTube for hours. 

She’s contouring, he thinks. She keeps making lines and blending them in, powdering his face to set it, and then reapplying in another shade. This goes on for a while until he somehow looks permanently tired. She darkens his eyes some more, fills out his brows and shapes them, and gets to work on the beard. Vik shaved his own facial hair short for this, so it’s mostly just stubble. Mary uses a sponge to apply some dark, creamy makeup to his skin and already existing hair. Her brows are knit together tightly, obviously concentrating hard. Once she’s seemingly done with that, she retrieves another little brush and taps it into some grey eye shadow and starts to try and add a few grey spots closer to his sideburns. 

“You are a goddamn masterpiece.” Mary finally announces, using some more powder to set everything. She finally moves so she is no longer blocking his line of sight, and Vik has to pause while staring at the mirror.

“Oh my god. I’m like… Robert’s shorter, less attractive twin.”

“You sat in the womb a little too long.” Mary jokes, grabbing the long sleeved red shirt from the counter. She helps Vik into it so he doesn’t mess up his hair or makeup, and he pulls on his leather jacket. He hangs a pair of sunglasses from his collar, and damn. This is awesome. Does Robert feel this cool all the time? He feels like such a badass.

Mary moves to start on her own makeup, and Vik watches her work. It’s super interesting, the way she blends and highlights. Her and Damien already looked alike when you examined them closely, but with Mary’s hair dark like this? It’s bizarre how much they look alike. It doesn’t take her nearly as long to finish her own look, and produce some contacts from her bag. She pops them in, giving her eye the same purply glow that Damien’s always had. 

“I think someone would mistake you for Damien even if they were standing right next to you. In really good lighting. Where they can clearly see your face. I’m not entirely convinced that you and Damien aren’t actually the same person and you’ve been tricking everyone this whole time.”

“People always look surprised when I tell them we’re related. I don’t think they will be anymore after tonight.” She grins, sliding past Vik and out of the bathroom. “Wait here,” she tells him, ducking into her bedroom. She’s only gone a few minutes before she comes back in some riding pants, a button down, and a waistcoat. She’s still buttoning the latter as she exits the bedroom, and then pulls the cloak hanging over her shoulder around herself and clipping it in place. “Just need the boots and I’m all set.” 

The two of them head downstairs, slipping on their own shoes. Mary has to sit down and take a long minute to lace hers, so Vik takes a long look around. Crish is in his playpen, wearing a cute little brown sweater and skirt combo. There was a headband on his head a well, and he was wearing black flats. He was an adorable little Mary. And the twins make their way down the stairs, having decided to dress up as one another. Christie’s hair is pulled up to make it shorter, and she’s in her brother’s clothes. Christian is wearing one of Christie’s dresses, and had some fake extensions in that looked like they may have been clipped from a couple Barbie dolls. Vik would not put it past the twins to leave all of their dolls bald. 

“Chris refused to dress up.” Mary says, giving a shrug. “Says it’s stupid. Oh well, he’ll come around when he wants some candy.” She stands up, the boots giving her the few inches she was missing. Now there’s basically no way to tell it’s not actually Damien until she opened her mouth. 

Joseph enters the room with bright orange hair and a fake beard, paired with a Hawaiian shirt. “Oh my goodness,” he says, pausing to take Mary and Vik in. If he hadn’t know of his wife’s plan to dress as her brother, he would’ve assumed it was Damien. As for Vik, he definitely wasn’t a dead ringer for Robert, but… It was far more attractive than Joseph liked to admit. “You two might just have the best costumes at the party!”

Soon enough guests start to arrive, all filing into the house and backyard. It’s hilarious getting a good look at everyone’s costumes. He dies a little when he sees that Brian dressed up as him, and Daisy as Amanda. Damn Brian, being sweet and outdoing Vik emotionally. He takes a ridiculous amount of photos though, ready to send them all to Amanda later. He also laughs when he sees Damien as Hugo and Lucien as Ernest. Lucien is bundled up in an orange hoodie with a marker-drawn mustache over his lip. He huffs on his vape pen and mutters ‘you all suck’ over and over again, along with a few other expletives. 

Hugo’s costume takes him a moment, and he starts laughing when he figures it out. The white and black shirt, the spiked collar, the dog ear headband. He’s Betsy. He looks a little embarrassed, admitting that he RSVP’d late and didn’t have many options to choose from. Craig might just take the night though, in his huge onesie and knit beanie. He keeps cooing at people, imitating the noises his daughter who’s strapped to his chest is making. 

Vik finds himself in the backyard after a while, watching the kids bob for apples. He lets an unlit cigarette hang from his lips, leaning against the wall of the Christiansen house. Carmensita, who’s dressed as her dad, actually mistakes him for Robert. It’s an awesome feeling. Vik takes a flask out of his breast pocket, taking a long swig from it before tucking it away. Gotta commit to the role.

As the party continues on, Mary gets decently smashed. That wasn’t out of the ordinary, and she finds herself leaning against Rober--- Vik. She pulls her phone out, taking a good picture of them together. She sends it to the real Robert, both of them eyeing her phone for a response.

  
Mary: I am the best Damien and Vik hasn’t talked to anyone tonight. He’s just hung out in the corner and pretended to smoke.   
Mary: He wants you to take note that he has an irresponsible number of knives on him right now.  
Robert: oh my fucking god  
Robert: that is so weird wtf mary  
Robert: now i gotta deal with all this weird sexual frustration caused by vik dressed as me  
Robert: what the fuck is my therapist gonna say about this  


He’s in therapy? Vik has to smile a little at that, glad that he’s getting help. Mary is laughing at his reply, leaning back against Vik a bit. He has to crane his neck to see over her shoulder, considering she was taller than him before she even put those boots on.

  
Mary: Wait he told me I could video tape him taking out all of the knives he has with him.   


Mary drags Vik inside, away from the children and party goers. They end up in some side room, like a library or something. Chris has fallen asleep on one of the lounge chairs in there. Mary starts rolling her camera, so Vik begins retrieving knives from where they’ve been stashed on his person. Of course, there’s quite a few in his jacket pockets, and his pants pockets, but it doesn’t stop there. There’s one taped under the jacket’s lapel, one in his boot, another that he has to laugh and unbutton his pants to retrieve from where it’s strapped to his thigh (Mary whistles far too loudly at that), and one that was tucked up his sleeve. He ends up with a pile of at least ten knives, and just grins and nods at the camera. “I spent way too long debating how many knives was too many. Then I came to the conclusion that there is no such thing and went all out.”

Mary snorts, ending the recording and sending it to Robert. The two of them leave the room behind, opting for the kitchen. There’s a bowl full of candy and Vik has no self-control. He digs right in, leaving a growing pile of wrappers on the counter.

  
Robert: dammit i'm coming home  
Robert: vik in my clothes and with a ton of knives is too good not to see in person  
Mary: Start driving, bucko. Brooklyn isn’t exactly next door. Is Vik supposed to keep this outfit on for another eight hours?  
Robert: yes  
Mary: Look, if you agree to come home, I’ll never let him wear anything else.  


“I’m alright with that,” Vik answers, shrugging. “This is super comfortable. And I’m so warm. And I feel badass.” It may be the whiskey in his system talking, but he was ready to commit to being Robert full time. He retrieves his flask, taking a swig from it and handing it off to Mary. She downs some of it, making a face as she hands it back.

“I didn’t think you were actually drinking whiskey. I assumed it was apple juice or something.”

Vik scoffs, tucking the flask away once again. “Look, I’ve committed to this role. I’m not cutting corners.” The two of them make their way to the living room, Vik not hesitating to bring the candy bowl with him. He’d have a stomach ache later, and definitely regret the sugar and calorie intake, but fuck it. He wanted some mini Snickers bars and he wanted them now.

“Let’s blow this joint,” Mary finally says, pushing up from the couch and grinning. “Let’s go take a walk to kill some of the eight hours we have to wait.”

“Good idea.” Vik stands up, following her out the front door and into the cool night air. The cul-de-sac has been appropriately decorated with lots of pumpkins and fake spiderwebs in bushes. Craig even went as far as scaling one of the street lamps and hanging a ghost decoration from it. Vik loves it. Halloween has always been one of his favorite holidays. 

The two of them stroll the long way around the cul-de-sac sidewalk before leaving it altogether. The walk to town is short, and the night is alive with people in costumes attending parties and clubs. Vik doesn’t even bother to ask where Mary is leading them, aware of the fact that she’d know all the fun spots to hit tonight. He has to admit that he’s a little surprised by the club they end up at. The Rocking Bottom. “A gay club?”

“A gay dance club, Vik.” She corrects, moving to stand in line to get inside. “Robert and I hit up this place almost every Halloween. Good music, free candy, and Robert always had a line of guys ready to buy him drinks so we never had to pay a dime.” 

“Well, as much as my wardrobe would have you believe it, I’m not actually Robert so we will probably have to pay for our own drinks.”

Mary snorts, brows arching. “Give yourself some credit, sailor. I’ll bring you here sometime while we’re in our civvies and we can see how much action you get. Plus, if it doesn’t work out here, there’s another place down the street called Nine Inch Males where you might get some more attention.”

“Nine Inch Males,” Vik repeats, taking in the brilliant pun. Somewhere, Trent Reznor was laughing about this. 

“It’s a bondage club, too. Dudes in leather, some dancing in cages. Hell, we’re gonna go even if we have a great time here because it’s a sight.” Mary snorts, taking a few steps closer as the two of them get to the bouncer. They show ID, which seems a little silly considering that nobody looks like their photo tonight. The bouncer lets them in, and Vik is a little taken aback by how loud it is inside. He didn’t have much club experience, usually settling for little dive bars. Mary grabs his arm so they don’t get separated, and the two of them file through the crowd and to the bar. 

“You look terrified,” Mary comments, sitting up on a stool. She waves down the bartender, ordering two whiskey sours. “You ever been clubbing before?”

“Not really.” Vik shrugs, taking in the sight of an endless sea of dudes in costumes. It almost looks like a comedy where a bunch of monsters were having a party together. But a really gay party. “In college I stuck to frat parties and music festivals and stuff. I mean, I like to dance, but I guess I had Amanda not long after finishing college and just… Never really had the opportunity to do anything like this.”

“I’m taking your clubbing virginity and Robert isn’t even here.” She scoffs, turning to grab her own drink. Vik takes his off the counter, plucking the maraschino cherry from where it’s floating above the ice and pops it into his mouth. “I got some tips for you, bud. Don’t even take your eye off your drink, if we lose each other, come back here to the bar and I’ll find you, and this is the most important.” She sits up, leaning in to look Vik dead in the eye. “If you use the bathroom here, someone might stick their dick through a hole in the stall. What you choose to do with it is up to you.” 

“You’re awful,” Vik says between chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. When life gave you lemons, make whiskey sours. Robert has probably said that at some point. 

The two of them finish off their drinks within a few minutes, and before they can leave the bar someone from the other end has bought them each another. “Told you so,” Mary chimes, nodding her head to the guy as thanks. He isn’t looking at her, though. Vik gives him a little wave.

“Let’s dance,” Mary takes her drink and leaves her stool, dragging Vik by his arm over to the dancefloor. She downs half her whiskey sour in one gulp, moving to rest her arms over Vik’s shoulders. He puts a hand on her side, sipping at his own drink as they start to sway with the music. 

When their glasses are empty, Mary literally shoves them in some guy’s arms who seems to be returning to the bar. “Be a doll and take these, would ya?” She inquires, not giving the guy time to respond before she yanks Vik deeper into the dancing crowd. She turns her back to him, pressing up close and beginning to sway. Vik feels a little embarrassed for a moment, before realizing that everyone else in the crowd is basically grinding on each other. He places his hands on the curve of Mary’s waist and begins to move in time with her. 

He’s not sure if it’s the beat of the music or the alcohol in his system, but he relaxes pretty quickly. Soon enough he doesn’t even have to think about how to move his body. It just moves on its own, swaying in time with Mary like his hips were meant for this exact purpose. She leans back into him, one arm reaching up over her head and back to slide through Vik’s hair. She gives it a playful little tug, and he feels a little guilty for liking the sensation as much as he does.

The two of them retreat back to the bar after a few songs, ordering some waters and trying to rehydrate. Vik is a little sticky from sweat, and from the way Mary is yanking at the buttons on her shirt he assumes she is too. 

“I don’t get how Dames wears this stuff all the time,” she whines, pulling off the cloak and undoing the buttons on the waistcoat. “So many layers. And he wears this shit in summer.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t sweat,” Vik jokes, finishing off his water and brushing some bangs off his wet forehead. His leather jacket is tied around his waist at this point, and he’s rolling up his sweater sleeves. “Maybe Robert’s been right this whole time and your brother is actually a vampire.”

“Maybe I’m also a vampire.” Mary offers, wiggling her brows, the corners of her mouth raising in a sly smirk. “Maybe the so-called red wine I’m always drinking isn’t wine at all. And you’ve never actually seen me _inside_ of the church, either. Just outside.”

“Holy shit,” Vik mutters, shaking his head. “You’ve been a vampire this whole time and Robert doesn’t have a clue.”

“He’s a shitty cryptid hunter.” She snorts, grinning as the bartender pushes some shots in front of them. Apparently from the guy over there. “Which one?” Mary inquires, turning to look in that direction. Some guy dressed as Spider-Man waves at them. “He really is our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” She snorts, taking one of the shots of green liquid and wincing a little. “Ugh, always forget how nasty absinthe is.”

Vik eyes the shot hesitantly, unused to seeing Mary wince over anything that contains alcohol. He lifts the shot, finally knocking it back. He pauses, starting to cough a bit and face scrunching in disgust. Oh god, burning licorice. That’s basically what that shot was. “Why would anyone drink this?”

“It’s like 150 proof or some wild shit like that,” Mary answers with a shrug, preparing herself to take the second shot. She waves the bartender down, and retrieves two lime wedges. She hands one to Vik, taking her shot quickly and then biting in the lime to block out the flavor. He sighs, following suit. It doesn’t make it bearable, but the lime is pretty damn tasty. Vik eats it.

“You’re weird,” Mary snorts, dropping her mangled lime wedge into her empty shot glass. He retrieves it, deciding to eat hers as well. “Alright, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“But I’m having fun.”

“You’ll have fun at Nine Inch Males, too.” Mary points out. Vik decides that yeah, he probably would. He pays the bartender for their initial whiskey sours and then holds Mary’s hand as the two of them make their way outside. The air is surprisingly cold, and is welcomed on their sweaty skin. Their arms swing together as they walk down the street, Mary beginning to mumble the words to whatever Katy Perry song was playing before they left. 

“…the taste of her cherry chapstick…I kissed a girl just to try it…Hope my boyfriend don’t mind it...” She continues rambling under her breath, eyes closed and swaying a little as she walks. She opens them after a moment, eyes turning to meet Vik’s. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

“No,” Vik shrugs. “Alex was my first kiss, and then there were some guys in college, and after that I got married. And after that… Robert, like, three times.” And Joseph. But he wasn’t going to bring that up.

“What a saint,” Mary scoffs, laughing a bit. “Guess I can’t judge. Haven’t kissed anyone since Joey and I got hitched.” She continues walking for a moment, suddenly turning their bodies. She gives Vik a shove, causing him to grunt in surprise as his back hits the wall of some closed shop they were passing. She leans in, lips smashing against his. Her fingers knot in his red sweater, and he melts underneath the contact. His own hands trail upward, sliding along either side of her neck and into her hair. The kiss continues for a long moment, wet and needy, before Mary breaks away panting. She wipes her mouth on her sleeve, and then continues walking. Vik stares after her, mind blown and breathless. He pushes up from the wall, slowly making his way after her. His knees feel like they’re made of jelly and might collapse under his weight at any moment.

“Why did you—"

“Felt like it.” Mary says with a shrug, the heel of her boots clicking against the sidewalk quietly with each step. “Haven’t you ever gotten really drunk and just kissed someone for the sake of kissing them?”

“…Yeah.” Vik replies, adverting his eyes from Mary’s direction. 

She notices this, brows arching. “Knew it. My husband totally made a move on you.”

Vik’s cheeks light up, and he huffs. “It was just a kiss and we were drunk, okay? I don’t even think he remembers it happened.”

“Well, this was payback.” Mary states, continuing along. “Vik, I’ve been thinking up a plan and you’re going to help me with it.”

“I do not like the direction this is going in.”

“We’re going to have an affair.”

“Mary.” Vik sighs, giving her a serious look. “I am drunk off my ass but I can tell you that that is an awful idea.”

“Not an actual affair,” Mary snorts, elbowing Vik in the side. “I mean, we can make out some more because that was pretty great, but for the most part it’ll be pretend. I just want to scare him a bit, you know? We’ve been married twelve years and I’ve never stepped out on him. The most I do is flirt with guys I’ll never talk to ever again so they buy me drinks to get rid of me.” 

“Robert is probably coming home, Mary. Why not have your pretend affair with him?” He really, really hopes that Robert is actually coming home and that they didn’t get their hopes up over a joke.

“Nah,” she shakes her head, finding the front entrance of Nine Inch Males. There’s no line here, so the bouncer lets them in right away. It’s considerably less packed than the other club, but Vik feels the same fit of discomfort. Hot guys. Almost naked hot guys. 

“Why not?”

“Joseph knows that Robert and I would never have a thing. He’s known Robert too long. You, though. He tried to make a move on you, meaning he thinks you might come around.” Did Mary mean that Joseph thought Vik would change his mind? “You turned him down, right? Which means that he’s stuck with two ideas in his head. One, he thinks that you turned him down out of guilt and regular moral conscious. Two, he thinks you turned him down because you know what he did. I want him to think the latter. I want him to know that you know he hurt me.”

She leads the two of them to the bar, ordering them some popcorn and more water. They had a while to wait up, and neither of them needed to get dehydrated and pass out or something. “As I said, we aren’t going to have an actual affair. I just want Joseph to sweat a little.”

Vik is quiet for a moment, picking at the bland popcorn that’s been placed in front of them. “I’ll consider it.” He finally says, chewing on a mouthful. “What am I supposed to do if Joseph asks me about it, though?”

“What any guy having an affair does,” Mary scoffs, rolling her eyes and downing a large gulp of water. “Lie through your teeth.”

“I’m a bad liar.”

“But you won’t actually be lying. All you have to do is tell Joseph that you aren’t sleeping with me, and that’s the truth.”

She had a point. Vik liked Joseph, genuinely he did. The other was fun and a good father and a good friend. He could understand why Mary would want to do this, but part of him still felt guilty.

“Look, when I’m done this little game and finally come clean about it, I’ll take the fall. Tell Joseph it was all my idea and you didn’t even know about it. You won’t have to worry about him being mad at you, and everything will go back to normal.”

“…Fine. I guess. But if it gets too much, I’m out.” Vik warns her, but she grins and nods anyway. She downs a large handful of popcorn, giving a look around. She finally waves her hand in the general direction of the stage where there were dancers. 

“As a show of thanks, I’ll buy you a lap dance.”

“That is not necessary.” 

“Nope, doing it.” Mary jumps down off her stool and rushes over to the stage. She waves down one of the side dancers who isn’t too busy being in the spotlight to answer her. Vik stares in disbelief as she talks to him, turning and pointing Vik out at the bar. 

He’s horrorstruck as Mary comes back and drags him into a hall adjacent to the main room of the club. Some young guy in a naughty nurses’ costume directs them into a room, telling them that it would just be a minute.

“This is not happening.” Vik says, Mary shoving him down into a chair in the center of the room. “Mary, please tell me that I am dreaming. What am I supposed to do?”

“Just enjoy yourself,” Mary shrugs, leaning against one of the walls. “I told them you’d like a tall guy, dark skinned, who looks kind of scary.”

“ _Mary_ ,” Vik shrinks in his seat, covering his face with his hands. “You did not.”

“I did.” Mary smirks, an evil glint in her eyes. “The guy told me they had someone who fit that description perfectly. Called him Thunder Thighs. You’re gonna have a great time.”

____________________________________________

_Sunday, October 29th, 2017_

It’s two in the morning by the time the two of them make it back to Vik’s, stumbling along the sidewalk, arms wrapped around one another in an attempt to keep steady. Robert’s driveway is still empty, but it’s only been about six hours since he sent that message. Vik fumbles with his keys, nearly dropping them a few times, before getting his door open. Betsy rushes them, sniffing them both for a moment before heading out into the yard to do her business. 

Mary pushes back Vik, quick to flop down onto his couch. She tosses her cloak and waistcoat on the coffee table, and starts to unlace her boots. She yanks them off, whining about her feet killing her. Vik lets Betsy back inside before closing the door and taking a seat next to her. 

“We have more time to kill,” she mutters, glancing at the time on her phone. She yawns, kicking her socked feet up onto the coffee table. “A movie?

Vik scoops up the remote from where it’s wedged between the couch cushions. He starts going through the guide, finding some low-budget, shitty horror movie that’s being played for Halloween. Mary leans up against his shoulder, and he rests his head against hers. The two of them fall asleep there, despite the screaming coming from the slasher flick on TV. 

Neither of them hear the truck pull up in the driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> robert! is! coming! home!  
> next chapter is so good? we get some roseph drama that ive been aching to get to. see yall on monday!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: VAL!!!, joseph being genuinely emotional and remorseful and robert not knowing wtf hes doing, a no pants party, a coming out, and a sexy detective novel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so late today! i had a lot going on BUT it is here. this is one of my favorite chapters ive written for this story thus far tbh. 
> 
> a quick warning tho vik tells robert he is trans in this chapter and does state that he has a vagina (its actually in a joke after the initial coming out) BUT i wanted to warn anyone ahead of time bc dysphoria is a bitch

_Saturday, October 28th, 2017_

Clothes in his bag, shoes on his feet, jacket on his shoulders. Was he forgetting anything? He gives a glance around the space he’d been staying in, nothing immediately catching his eye. He looks up at the sound of footsteps on the loft above, his daughter appearing and leaning over the railing.

“You sure you don’t want to wait until morning?” Val inquires, tilting her head. She’s a tall girl, with sharp features and dark eyes. Anyone with the ability to see could tell they were related. 

“Nah. I like driving at night, anyway.” Robert shrugs, adjusting the strap of his duffle-bag on his shoulder a bit. “You sure you okay with me leaving?”

“Dad,” she starts, giving him an even look. “I’m eagerly waiting for you to get the fuck out so my girlfriend and I can go at it like rabbits without having to worry about you hearing. We’ve been forced to keep quiet for five months. I’m ready to scream her name until my throat is raw.”

Robert snorts, flashing a toothy grin at his daughter. “You know y’all could’ve just told me to fuck off, right?”

“I did. Several times.” She grins back, moving to finally walk down the steps to the first floor of the suite. “You’re coming back here for Thanksgiving.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.” She tells him, approaching her father. She looks up at him, their eyes meeting for a moment before they simultaneously look away. “Dr. Jennifer will be doing Skype sessions on our normal day. If you start skipping them just because I’m not there to make you go, I’ll come back to Maple Bay and kick your ass. And steal your dog.”

“Shit,” Robert looks to her, squinting. “You fight dirty.”

“Wonder where I learned that from.” She hums, voice full of sarcasm. “But seriously, don’t miss the sessions.” Her voice is warning, and Robert feels guilt settle in his stomach. As much as he liked to pretend he wasn’t, he was still on thin ice with his daughter. “Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home.”

“I will.” Robert nods, patting his jean pocket to make sure his phone was there. It was. “I’ll probably get a plane ticket when I come back in November. Love Ol’ Red to death, but she doesn’t like these long drives too much.”

“I can’t blame her. She’s probably got a good million miles behind her.” Val points out, shaking her head in disbelief. “Can’t believe you’re still driving that truck. I thought it was old when I was a kid.”

“It was my first car,” Robert shrugs, welcoming the conversation. Procrastinating the goodbye was fine by him. “Paid for it myself, too. She’s seen a lot of shit. I take good care of her, she takes good care of me.”

“Well, hopefully she can get you home without breaking down.”

“She made the drive up here alright.” Robert shrugs, knowing that that wasn’t entirely true. He had to stop at one point because the radiator was overheating, but that was an easy fix. 

Val nods, finding herself with nothing left to say. She finally sighs, staring at her father’s feet to avoid his eyes. Neither of them say anything, just avoiding looking at the other’s face. 

“Just hug already!” Jazzmyn groans from the top of the loft, startling both of the Smalls. Val’s girlfriend had the Robert seal of approval, by far. Sassy thing, blunt too. Wasn’t afraid to tell someone how it was. “Y’all are going to stand there all night being awkward, otherwise. Hug, say ‘I love you’ ‘Love you too dad’, and goodbye. Walk him to the door, wave him off. Come on, you are both more than capable.”

“She’s a keeper,” Robert snorts, finally looking up at his daughter. All the tension in his body comes to a brim, swallowing thickly before finally speaking again. “Love you, kid. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Val glances up, feeling the same sense of tension in her own body. Hers doesn’t stem from guilt, though. More so from fear. Fear of believing it and being disappointed all over again. She finally leans in, wrapping her arms around her father’s midsection. He hugs her back tightly, and she shuts her eyes tightly. “Love you too, old man. Now get the fuck out.” 

“Can do,” he says, a little choked up. He finally pulls back from the hug when Val loosens her grip, and she follows him to the door. He opens it, sort of standing in the open archway for a long moment. He finally looks up, giving Val a wave. She waves back, and then he’s gone. He’s down the hallway and in the elevator, and then outside. Then he’s in the parking garage, sliding into his familiar truck and settling down into the cold seats. 

He feels really weird as he pulls out onto the street, leaving the last few months behind. But he wasn’t, not really. He needed to remind himself that. His sense of object permanence was screwed, and it was easy for him to forget something existed if he wasn’t looking directly at it. But Val was very real, and he was going to call her tomorrow if it killed him. He was going to come back for Thanksgiving, too. He wasn’t going to fuck this up. 

The drive is brain numbing, just taking in the bright lights that flash around him as he makes his way through the city. And then the view of New York in his rearview mirror as he leaves it behind. He goes through half a pack of cigarettes, two pitstops, and a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich on his way home. The familiar sight of the Maple Bay sign brings with it the strangest sense of emotion, knocking Robert on his metaphorical ass after a long few hours of feeling next to nothing. He has to stop himself from speeding up.

It’s half past five in the morning now, and the dark of the sky was beginning to lighten. He works on another cigarette as he pulls into town, passing the aquarium. A few blocks later there’s the shelter, and then The Coffee Spoon. He rolls his window down, the thick musk of salt water drifting all the way from the marina to the center of town. He breathes in the familiar scent and feels a warmth overtake him.

He had never thought of Maple Bay as his home before. Brooklyn was where he grew up, where his father and daughter were, where he met his wife, where he had gotten married and had said daughter. He had been in Maple Bay for sixteen years, but he had never felt the same sense of comfort brought on by the idea of Brooklyn. But now, now that he’s been in Brooklyn for the last few months, coming back here feels different. He had been in Brooklyn for something necessary, and it had been wonderful and nostalgic, but it didn’t feel the way he remembered. But Maple Bay, with its small-town charm, possessed the few locations on this earth that Robert Small felt at peace in. This was his home. 

The previously grey sky is now just a mess of pinkish purple splotches. Robert can feel the sun on the left side of his face, warm and comforting. It reminds him how sleepy he is after being awake all of the previous day and night. Just a little while longer.

He spots the turn that leads into the cul-de-sac, going over a little bridge cresting a tiny creek that somehow makes its way back to the ocean. The place has been decorated for Halloween, pumpkins lining the road and cartoon ghosts peering through peoples’ windows. There’s his house, and Mary’s, and Vik’s. He skips his own driveway, pulling up into Vik’s. His truck’s muffler pops loudly as he comes to a stop, and he pauses in his seat. This was it. 

It takes him a long minute to build up the courage to leave the cockpit of his truck. He leaves his bag in the passenger seat, and steps out onto the asphalt. His legs feel weak. He pauses, remembering that he needed to text Val. He pulls out his phone, typing something quickly.

  
Robert: i'm home   
Robert: ol’ red did her job just fine    
Robert: don’t doubt her ever again   


He also takes a moment to set an alarm in his phone, reminding him at a later time to call Val. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching, and pauses to look up. He expects to see Craig out at the ass crack of dawn on a walk or something, but nope. It’s Joseph.

“Hey,” Joseph says, despite looking surprised. He’s not in his usual state of appearance. His hair is tousled with sleep, and he’s in a matching pair of pajama pants and a button down. “I didn’t know you were coming home today.”

“Neither did I.” Robert simply answers, just keeping his gaze even. He’s uncomfortable, clearly. He knows Joseph can see how uncomfortable he is, and that just makes him feel worse. “What are you doing?”

“Mary didn’t come home.” He admits, reaching up to brush his bangs out of his eyes. “She didn’t answer her phone, either. I’m used to her staying out late, but it’s been a while since she just… Didn’t come home. I was coming over to see if Vik knew where she was.”

“She’s probably here.” Robert replies, glancing up towards the house. “Told them last night I was on my way back. Probably tried to wait up for me.” 

“Yeah, that’s what popped into my mind the second I saw you.” Joseph looks downward, his fingers toying together nervously against his stomach. “So… How’s Val?”

“That’s none of your business.” 

“Robert, I—”

“Stop.” Robert orders, his voice strained. He hated how the other could rile him up so easily. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, just stop.” He finally turns, heading for the front porch. He wasn’t going to have this conversation anymore. Except Joseph is following him. “Unless I wasn’t clear before, I’m telling you to fuck off.”

“I’m still looking for my wife.” Joseph points out, giving Robert a look. There’s no heat there, no anger. That makes it worse. Joseph looks like he pities Robert and Robert wants to vomit. 

“You’re just going to knock on the door and wake everyone up.”

“And what was your plan, Robert?”

Robert stands there for a moment in silence. He didn’t have a plan other than to knock. Or maybe text Vik until he woke up. “I was going to break in. Quietly.”

Joseph actually laughs at that, shaking his head. “I have a better idea.” He reaches up, retrieving a key from above the doorframe. Robert is overwhelmed with wanting to know why Joseph knew about that key and he didn’t. Joseph unlocks the door, and gently pushes it open. “You first,” he waves his hand, motioning for Robert to enter before him. 

Robert grunts in reply, stepping inside. He quickly realizes that he’s never actually been inside of Vik’s place before. It’s messier than expected, not necessarily in a filth way though. More like Vik often picked up things and set them down somewhere else and forgot to put them back later. The place is colorful, giving it a little pop that makes it easy to ignore how small it is. Smallest house on the block, actually. The coffee table is stuffed with random objects. Same with the bookshelf against the wall. There’s a record player by the window, and in front of that an overflowing basket of laundry. 

There’s a little half-bark that comes out of Betsy as she stirs from her bed sleepily. She uncurls, peeking around and finally catching sight of Robert. Her eyes go wide, and she launches to her feet and across the carpet. He crouches down, scooping her up and letting her lick the entirety of his face. Fuck, he had missed her so much. He lets her kiss him to her heart’s content, just cradling her close and leaning in to kiss her fur. What a good girl. 

He hears Joseph sigh behind him, and turns to see where the other is looking. Vik and Mary are on the couch, both fast asleep. Vik is leaned up against the arm, Mary is sprawled out over most of the couch, head in Vik’s lap. His hand rests atop her head, and they look peaceful. 

“You found your wife. You can leave now.” Robert turns to look at Joseph, fixing him with a glare. Joseph doesn’t budge. 

“It’s been six years, Robert.” He finally says, turning his gaze on the other. There’s a sadness in those eyes, something that plucks at Robert’s heartstrings in a way nothing else can. “You’re not going to ever feel any better if you spend all of your time stuck in the past.”

“Fuck you,” Robert growls, still trying to half-whisper. Vik and Mary are out like lights, but he doesn’t need them to wake up for this argument. “You are the last person who should be telling me how to deal with my own problems.”

Joseph’s mouth forms a firm line, and he seems to debate something for a long moment. Then suddenly he’s gripping Robert’s upper arm, using a surprising amount of strength and the benefit of spontaneity to pull Robert back out the front door. He closes it behind them, releasing the other. “I do not wish to wake them,” he says, answering Robert’s befuddled gaze. It quickly disappears, Robert sinking backwards a few feet in discomfort. Betsy is like a safety blanket in his arms. 

“It has been six years,” Joseph says again, crossing his arms. “Six years and somehow I’m still the only bad guy in this situation. My wife hates me, you hate me. It’s like the two of you can somehow completely ignore the fact that you were the other half of this equation.”

“Mary knows I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Neither did I!” Joseph reaches up to rub at his temples, frustration building. “None of this was about hurting her, and I have no idea how either of you came to this conclusion. I have no idea how you can look back on what we had and twist it into something evil, Robert.”

“I’m not having this conversation.” Robert moves to walk past Joseph, but the blond puts himself in his way.

“You’ve spent years avoiding it, Robert. You can’t run from everything forever, you know.” He grips the fabric of Robert’s jacket sleeve, giving him a pleading look. “I went about all of it very poorly, and I know that. We were both in a bad place, but you cannot honestly believe that I wasn’t completely in love with you.” 

Robert doesn’t know what to say. Despite being the taller of the two, he suddenly feels so small. He had been avoiding this for so long, allowing him and Mary to be bitter about it together. But he didn’t want to believe that he had twisted it into something evil. He had been in love with Joseph as well, but he had also just lost his wife. His daughter had just moved away and he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to speak to him again. Mary had left to go help her parents, and Joseph was the only sense of consistency in his life. The only person who hadn’t left him despite how broken he was. 

Joseph lets go of his sleeve, fingers going slack and mouth agape. “Robert, I. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He says, instinct telling him to reach out and hold the other. He knew that wouldn’t be a good idea, though. He feels himself get a little misty eyed, swallowing the building lump in his throat. “Look, this wasn’t to upset you or anything like that. I just… I just want things to be okay between us again, Robert. I miss you.” His voice cracks a bit at the last part, sucking in a deep breath. “I want you to stop lying to yourself about what happened, and I want us to just be happy again. I miss how happy I used to get whenever I saw you or Mary. Now everything is so messed up and it doesn’t have to be. I just… I don’t know what to say to either of you. What to do to make everythin—”

Joseph doesn’t have a chance to finish, Robert spinning them around after a moment. Joseph’s back hits the front door, and Robert dips down so quickly to release Betsy to the ground that he barely even processes it happening at all. Then Robert’s mouth is on his. It’s salty with tears and there’s no heat. If anything, it makes them both feel worse. Neither of them pull away, though. It’s too gentle for anger or jealousy or remorse. In a single word, unsatisfying. They break apart, eyes meeting for a long moment. Robert’s gaze is shaky at best, and falters worse at the realization of what just happened. He steps away, feet moving until his back hits one of the support beams of the porch. Neither of them say anything.

“I just don’t want you to hate me,” Joseph finally says, eyes cast downward. His voice is small, barely audible to Robert. “I’m going to go home now.” He steps past the other, down the porch steps, and through the yard. He’s gone, and Robert is left alone with Betsy on the porch.

He sits down in the porch swing, producing a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. There’s whiskey in his house, just over there. He could go get it and forget all this ever happened. But he shouldn’t. If he drinks now, he’ll probably stay up too long and sleep the rest of the day. And forget to call Val. 

He sucks smoke into his lungs, waiting for the nicotine to take the edge off. It does after a minute or two, and he taps the ashes off in the shiny ashtray on the little porch table. Robert had brought it over months ago, knowing that he usually smoked a cigarette while he waited for Vik to meet him outside. He didn’t like leaving butts anywhere, especially somewhere an animal could eat them. Vik had kept it there. Hell, it looked like he had cleaned it too. His heart pangs a little, thinking about the sleeping man inside. About the promise to wait for him. 

He snubs the cigarette out in the tray, pushing himself up onto his feet. Sleep is calling him, making his head light. Today held far too many emotions for him to be comfortable with. He goes back inside, making sure Betsy follows him before closing the door behind him. He crouches down next to the couch, placing a hand on Vik’s knee. He gives it a little shake, and then another. It takes a moment for the other to rouse from his sleep.

“Hmm?” Vik hums, cracking his eyes open and looking to Robert. Robert is still pretty amazed at the makeup that Mary did. Vik could play him in a movie, probably. “Robert?” Vik’s voice is small, and he sits up a bit. “…Am I dreaming or are you actually here?”

“I’m here,” he says softly, moving to help untangle Vik from Mary on the couch. As soon as Vik doesn’t have to risk waking the other, his arms lock around Robert’s neck. Robert pauses, before wounding his own around Vik and cradling him against his chest. The two of them stay like that for as long as their bodies allow, before sleep is calling their names. 

Robert isn’t sure when either of them start moving, but Vik is pulling him down the hallway and he’s not about to argue. “Sorry for the mess,” Vik mutters sleepily as he pushes open his bedroom door, leading them both inside. There’s laundry everywhere, along with some empty water bottles. The trash can is spilling out onto the floor a bit, but none of it bothers Robert. He’s not exactly a clean person himself. 

Vik turns, hands moving to Robert’s neck. They slide upwards, thumbs stroking at his stubble softly. Robert watches him for a long moment before leaning in to kiss his forehead. Vik lets out a little sigh, tilting his head up and allowing their lips to touch. It’s gentle and sweet, causing nervous tingles in the pit of Robert’s stomach. How had he spent the last five months away from this man? 

The kiss doesn’t last long, both of them fighting sleep despite their need to touch one another. Robert takes his own jacket off, hanging it over the back of Vik’s computer chair. He helps the other out of his own, setting it alongside the first. Then Robert grins, giving Vik a playful push back onto the bed. He looks up at Robert, eyes wide in surprise. His cheeks go red when Robert starts undoing his belt buckle, but he doesn’t argue. Robert gets the others pants undone as quickly as he can manage, pulling them down and off. They end up abandoned on the floor, quickly forgotten. Robert grins, gently pushing the bottom part of Vik’s red sweater up to plant a few chaste kisses to his stomach. Vik lets out a small sigh, a hand reaching down to stroke Robert’s hair back. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Robert’s too sleepy to be emotional, but that also means he’s too sleepy to stop himself from being a little honest. He pulls back from the other, undoing his own pants and ditching them on the floor. He crawls into the bed, looking down at Vik. He leans in, their lips brushing together again for a long moment. Then he flops over onto his back, yawning loudly. 

Vik rolls onto his side, scooting closer and draping an arm over Robert’s midsection. His head rests against a pec, eyes falling shut. The two of them drift off relatively quickly.

_______________________________________________

_Sunday, October 29th, 2017_

The two of them only get about three hours of sleep before something rustles in the bed. Robert cracks his eyes open first, wincing at the stream of light coming in from the window. The figure reaches over to draw the curtain quickly, the room going dark. He looks up, confused for a long moment. “Damien?”

“Yes.” Mary’s half-asleep impression of her brother is subpar at best. “You’ve been right about me all these years, Robert. I’m here to suck your blood.” And she goes Transylvanian by the end there. Robert sleepily grins at her. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up, asshole.” She finally snorts, crawling into the bed. She takes the opposite side from Vik, getting comfy against Robert’s shoulder. “And y’all didn’t even invite me to the no-pants party.” She huffs, realizing the boys are in their boxers. She fumbles with her own snap and zipper, before sliding the pants down and off and kicking them aside. She pulls the blanket up over herself, and settles in to go back to sleep.

“Mary, if I invite you to shit then that takes away your chance to crash it.” He had a good point. Mary snickers softly at that, and Robert runs a hand through her hair. The three of them stay like that well past noon, drifting in and out of sleep. 

Robert cracks his eyes open at the sudden feeling of coldness at his side. He sleepily looks up, watching a fuzzy figure leave the room. He blinks the sleep away, glancing around and realizing that he was completely alone in bed. What the hell. “Come back,” he sleepily calls, his voice hoarse. 

“I had to pee,” Vik mutters from the opposite direction, returning from the master bath. “Think I woke Mary, though.” He yawns, coming back and crawling back into Robert’s grasp. The two of them are on the brink of sleep when Mary comes back and yanks the blanket off of them. Robert lets out a loud whine, sinking into the fleeting warmth of the sheets.

“Come on, boys. It’s two in the afternoon. Get up. I’ll make breakfast.” She throws the blanket on the floor, then reaches in and starts snatching up the pillows and tossing them aside as well. Soon enough the two men are left on a cold, bare bed. “Vik, wash your face. Your makeup is a mess, and your skin probably isn’t too happy about wearing it this long. After we eat, we are doing your laundry Vik. This is ridiculous.” She huffs, turning and leaving the room once again. 

“She’s such a mom,” Vik whines as he sits up, stretching his arms above his head. “I should probably get this dye out of my hair, too.” He dawdles for a moment longer before finally getting up and heading back towards the bathroom. Robert groans a bit, sitting up and watching him. He reluctantly gets up as well, following Vik into the bathroom. Vik watches him curiously as Robert runs the sink and splashes some cool water on his own face. 

“You want help with your hair?”

Vik’s cheeks go pink, and he laughs a little. It’s nervous, and kind of adorable. Robert smiles a little at the sound. That just makes Vik turn redder. “I uh. I think Mary might yell at us if we take too long.”

“It’ll be totally innocent,” Robert raises his hands in a show of surrender. “We can keep our boxers on and everything. I have spares out in the car, so it doesn’t matter if these get wet.” 

Vik still looks nervous, but he finally nods. He turns to open the glass door, starting the shower and closing it while the water heats up. He comes back over to the sink, retrieving some wipes and beginning to try and scrub the smeared eyeliner from his eyelids. 

Soon enough the glass door is fogging up, and Robert removes his own shirt. “Meet me in there,” he tells Vik, opening the door and stepping in. The hot water feels nice, even if it is weird with the damp fabric clinging to his dick. Vik takes another minute or two before he’s opening the door, and Robert steps aside to make room for him. Okay, this wasn’t the best idea. This shower was not meant to hold two people. 

“Yeah, Mary doesn’t have to worry. This shower is way too fucking small to have sex in.” Robert jokes, gaining a laugh from Vik. The other isn’t looking at Robert’s face, his arms crossed over his chest and his face red. Robert watches him for a moment, grinning a little bit at Vik’s shyness. “Come on, you don’t have to hide from me.” He says softly, fingers finding Vik’s hips. 

Vik doesn’t loosen up much, but he does finally move to wrap his arms around Robert’s shoulders gently. Robert relishes the feeling of warm skin on skin, never wanting to ever move again. Eventually though, the water starts turning black from the dye coming out of Vik’s hair. Robert moves to grab the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his palm and reaching up to scrub at Vik’s hair. The other closes his eyes, sighing softly, while Robert’s large fingers work gently against his scalp. 

Vik moves his head under the spray to rinse his head clean, and Robert leans back against the cool tiles to watch him. He takes in the other completely, noting every freckle on his way. His eyes land on the fading scars underneath Vik’s chest, and his head tilts curiously. He isn’t sure what would cause those. Definitely had to be surgical. Too clean cut for anything else. He’d only seen scars like that on breast cancer survivors in documentaries and stuff like that. His thoughts pause at the movement in front of him, Vik’s arms crossing over his chest again when he catches Robert staring. 

“I think I’m the last person in the world you should be self-conscious about scars around.” Robert points out, his voice soft. He watches Vik for a long moment, noting the insecurity in the other’s eyes. It takes Vik a long minute to respond.

“They’re from a subcutaneous bilateral mastectomy.” They’re big words, but Robert understands what each of them mean individually. Vik can see that he’s still a little confused, and his eyes move downward towards their feet. “I don’t like saying that I wasn’t born a guy because I’ve always been a guy. But I was born with the wrong parts, so I spent most of my early life being called a girl and wondering why I felt so shitty about it.”

Robert takes the information in, hearing the strain in Vik’s voice as he talks about it. He doesn’t know too much about this kind of stuff besides the bit that Mary has shared with him about Damien. “Okay,” he finally says, just looking to Vik. The other hesitantly glances up at him. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Robert repeats, trying to find the words. “I mean, I’m don’t really know that much about this kind of stuff since it’s not really a thing I’ve ever had to deal with but… I’m not like, opposed to it or anything. It’s not like you’re a totally different person suddenly.” He’s rambling, and nervous he’s just going to say something that might upset Vik.

Vik melts a little with relief, thankful Robert doesn’t seem bothered by this. It’s been a nervous pit in his stomach since he met the guy, and was a large part of the reason he didn’t go inside with Robert the first night they met despite wanting to. “Okay.”

“We sound like that fucking John Green novel about the kids with cancer.” Robert snorts, moving to wrap his arms around Vik. Their lips brush together softly, and Robert can feel the rest of Vik’s tension melt away in his grasp. He feels bad that the other was so scared to tell him this. He tries to think of something comforting to say, but there’s a loud, obnoxious knock on the bathroom door. It opens, and then suddenly the shower door opens. 

“…Damn, thought I was gonna see something good.” Mary huffs in disappointment over the two of them just snuggling in their undies in the shower. She’s still just in the button down from last night, it hanging over her body like a very short dress. “What are you two even doing?”

“Nearly having a panic attack over telling Robert I have a vagina.”

Mary lets out a laugh, shaking her head. “Damn. Should’ve told you about the time Dames came out to Rob. It went something like, ‘so I’m a guy’ and then ‘okay? So what? I wanted to know if you’re a vampire’.” 

Vik chokes a bit on his own laughter, burying his face in Robert’s wet shoulder. “That probably would’ve eased my nerves, yeah.”

Robert snorts, one hand stroking up and down Vik’s bare back. He pulls back a little, allowing their eyes to meet. “Honestly, I think it’s better this way. Having a vagina means you can have multiple orgasms.” Vik’s cheeks go red, but his eyes stay locked with Robert’s for a long moment, stuck between embarrassment and hunger.

“Okay, stop it.” Mary waves her hand, reaching in to shut the water off. “Both of you get out. I actually came here to tell you that I was going to make breakfast, but Vik has no fucking food in his house. So we’re going to mine, since Joseph and the kids are going to be at church for a few more hours.”

“Well, from the conversation we just had, I’m pretty convinced I have a meal right here.” Robert smirks, one hand tightening a grip on Vik’s hip. 

“That’s dessert, Robert. You’re not eating dessert for fucking breakfast. Get dressed.” Mary snorts at how red Vik is by this point, but reaches in to drag him out by his arm. “Make Robert get dressed. If he is bad, flick him on the nose.” She turns on a heel and leaves them both behind.

“You aren’t my mom,” Robert snips, making a little face but taking the towel Vik hands him. They get dried off as best as they can with their soaking wet underwear. Vik heads back into the bedroom, fishing himself out some clothes. Robert has the courtesy to turn away while Vik swaps out boxer-briefs. He pulls on some jeans that are probably not too dirty. 

“I actually probably have something you can wear in the basement,” Vik starts, eyes focused on buckling his belt.

“Got some sexy costumes for me in your BDSM sex dungeon?”

“I wish,” Vik snorts, shaking his head a little as he chuckles. “After you left I tidied up the bottom floor of your house a bit. Did some of your laundry. It’s still in a basket by the washing machine downstairs.” 

Vik leads the two of them out of the bedroom and down into the basement. It’s pretty plain looking, holding some boxes and old furniture. The area around the washer and dryer is a mess, though. Vik was not good at laundry. Robert is directed to a basket sitting on top of a table. He digs through it, quickly finding some underwear to put on. Without bothering to check if Vik’s looking, he yanks his boxer-briefs down and off. He pulls on a fresh pair, and tosses the wet ones to Vik. His face is beet red, so he definitely got an eyeful of something.

Vik deposits the underwear into the washer to worry about later, and finds himself a shirt. Wait, is this Robert’s? Would Robert mind? Vik quickly decides that he probably wouldn’t, and pulls it on anyway. He turns to watch Robert step into a pair of Levi’s and a sweater. He looks up, brows arching. “That’s mine.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Nah. Believe it or not, I have a weird fetish for people wearing my clothes.”

“I have a weird fetish for wearing other peoples’ clothes.” Vik flashes him a grin, which Robert returns whole heartedly. 

“Two peas in a pod,” Robert laughs and the two of them make their way back upstairs. Mary is in the living room, having pulled her hair back and put her pants back on. She leads them both out of Vik’s place and over to hers. Betsy follows closely behind them, not straying too far from Robert’s legs. They get inside the Christiansen household, and sure enough, it’s silent and empty.

“Joey and the spawn don’t usually get back until around six or so on church days.” Mary informs them, yawning. “Keurig is on the counter, k-cups and sugar in the cabinet above it, and creamer in the fridge. I’m going to go wash this dye out of my hair, and then we can eat something of actual substance. Don’t fuck on my couch while I’m gone.” Mary salutes to the boys before making her way upstairs. 

“Coffee,” Vik says, heading right for the kitchen without hesitation. He fetches a k-cup and sticks it in the slot, pours some water into the machine, and retrieves a mug from a cabinet. He has to check a couple of them to find the mug in the first place, and finally settles on one that reads ‘World’s Best Dad’. That’s his title, dammit. He grabs one for Robert that has a faded Mickey and Minnie Mouse on the side. The two of them make coffee and lean on the kitchen island and sip their beverages. “I guess it’s not really surprising that I ended up working with Mat.” Vik jokes, looking down at his cup. “Coffee is a good fifty percent of the reason I exist.”

Robert laughs at that, drinking his own coffee. He makes a face, adding more creamer to it and giving it a mix. It’s lukewarm at best by this point, and looks more like tan milk than coffee. The guy loved a good strong drink, but coffee was an entirely different story. Had to be sweeter than sin and contain more cream than a cow. It doesn’t take them long to empty their mugs, and Robert arches a brow when Vik goes back for a second. 

“Like your caffeine, huh?”

“I just like the taste of coffee,” Vik admits, adding some sugar and creamer to his fresh cup and stirring it around. “Always have. When I was little, I’d sneak coffee from the pot once my parents had theirs.”

“That’s cute.”

Vik drains the second mug in record time, and the two of them retire to the living room. Vik’s been in this house numerous times, but rarely ever without something to keep him busy. He finds himself in front of the bookshelf, taking in everything. Lots of bibles, Mary’s sexy novels, photo albums, baby books, knickknacks, et cetera. He plucks one of the wine stained novels from the top shelf, flipping it open to a random page. “I never understood how anyone likes these.” Vik says, coming over to sit on the arm of the couch next to Robert. “Like, if you’re going to read erotica, at least read something that isn’t ridiculously hilarious. How does Mary like this garbage?”

“Those are Joseph’s.”

“Oh my god,” Vik actually drops the book, watching it fumble to the floor. “I—But the wine stains—”

“Joseph likes his wine.” Robert answers, bending down to pick the book back up. He flips through it idly, pausing on a page. “Ooh, here’s a good part.” He coughs a bit, and when he speaks, his voice is an octave deeper. 

“ _Eliza turns in shock to see none other than Detective Kellar in her living room. ‘How did you get in here?’ He takes a few steps towards her, and her heart gets stuck in her throat. ‘I know that you killed your husband, Mrs. Hudgens.’ The Detective is right in front of her now, his hands gently grasping at her forearms. ‘I’m willing to keep quiet about it, though. But only if you make it worth my while._ ’”

Robert lets out a little ‘blah blah blah’ and turns a few pages before starting to read again. “ _His hands held her hips in position as he began to dip his manhood deep inside of her. She let out a low moan, eyes screwing shut. She yanks against the handcuffs holding her hostage to the headboard. ‘You’re too big,’ she cries. ‘I don’t know if I can handle this.’_ ”

“This one isn’t as bad as some of the ones I’ve read.” Vik snorts, rolling his eyes. “Manhood is an awful word for dick, though. I don’t get why these writers are so scared of the word cock. Dick. Penis. Literally anything besides manhood.”

“I just want to know what happened up to this point.” Robert flips through the earlier portion of the book, eyes scanning the pages but not actually reading anything. “How did Detective Kellar know she killed her husband? Why did she kill him? Do you have to read the whole first half of the book before getting to the sexy bits?”

“She killed her husband because he was sleeping with his secretary.” Mary suddenly chimes in, coming down the steps. She fluffs her hair with a towel, it having returned to its usual sandy shade. “She tried to frame the whole thing on the secretary. Cops bought the whole ‘secretary kills her boyfriend once she finds out he refuses to leave his wife for her’ motive. Except for Detective Kellar, who kept digging and refused to believe the case was settled. He didn’t actually care if Eliza killed her husband or not. He just wanted to be with her. Or inside of her, rather. The latter is probably more accurate.” She snorts, coming back over to the boys. “The series is twelve books long. In the third one Eliza and Kellar scheme together to murder Kellar’s wife so they can be together.”

“I thought these were Joseph’s books.”

“They are,” Mary says with a shrug. “We used to roleplay a lot. I was a great Eliza and he looked pretty good in a trench coat. Now, let’s go make some French toast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "joey and the spawn" could be the christiansen family band.  
> anyway fridays chapter will involve some more halloween stuff, like the coffee spoons halloween night celebration, and some cryptid hunting


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: robert small eating a literal dozen ghost shaped sugar cookies, lucien's patience being tested again and again, a walking dead reference, an Actual Cryptid, and some phone calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is pretty silly to start (mat is having WAY too much fun), but there are some pretty good story moments in it so its not entirely filler lmaooo  
> im so thankful for all the lovely comments this fic has gotten and im so grateful for all the people reading it. this fic has been really fun to write so far and im really pumped to see where it goes. (its probably going to be around 20-25 chapters but that is not set in stone)  
> im just super happy and i hope all of you guys have a great day  
> ALSO fair warning there is a little bit of blood in this chapter but nothing too graphic

_Tuesday, October 31st, 2017_

Vik stood behind the counter in The Coffee Spoon, mixing up a Mocha! At the Disco and humming along to that Spooky Scary Skeletons song that Mat has had on repeat for the last three hours. He gives the drink to the customer, who is dressed up in a sexy Satan costume. She takes her drink and heads back to her table, which consists of a cat and a witch. 

Vik thought his own vampire costume was pretty cool, all things considered. Amanda was being a vampire tonight as well, and even with her fourteen hours away, they wanted to match. Mary had had the genius idea of sharpening some fake nails to be the teeth and attaching them with denture glue instead of Vik having to wear those awful plastic teeth that made it impossible to talk. He sighs, listening to the song fade out and then start all over again. Lucien groans from across the room.

“Mat, I’m going to quit this job if you do not do something about the music.” Lucien finally says, coming over to the counter. Mat looks up from his spot near the display case. 

“Fine.” Mat finally states, turning to grab his iPod from where it is attached to a cord that leads to the speakers throughout the shop. He scrolls through songs for a little while, before settling on something. The shop is quiet for a moment, before a loud G-note plays. 

“ _When I was a young boy—_ ”

“MY FATHER TOOK ME INTO THE CITY,” Pablo yells from across the shop, along with a few other teens spread out about. “To seeee a marching baaand.” Pablo continues, sliding up to the counter and strumming his broom like a guitar.

“We can do three hours of this.” Mat says, shrugging his shoulders and turning around to head into the back. Vik swears he sees Lucien’s eye twitch as he tries not to sing along. Pablo wrapping his arms around him and singing in his ear does not help. Vik loves this job and his coworkers hilarious antics so much.

Mat has this Halloween event every year, from what he’s been told. Every Halloween, from six to nine, they’d put out the smoke machine and discount some Halloween themed pastries and drinks. There was even a costume contest. Mat has a projector set up on the stage, playing some old slasher flicks from the eighties that were in another language. 

As six o’ clock draws closer, people start filing in. It feels almost like an open mic night in a lot of ways. Tables go fast and Lucien has to get behind the counter to help with drink orders because Vik quickly becomes swamped. 

Vik gives a wave when he sees Robert and Mary enter the shop, but he doesn’t have a chance to break away and say hi. They get in line, so Vik will have a moment to talk to them at least. He fills another order, handing off two drinks to a person in a skeleton morph suit and orange horns. “What are you supposed to be?” He inquires, and the person simply raises their hand to their lips, making a ‘shh’ motion before disappearing into the crowd. 

The next few people in line are relatively uneventful, Vik serving some spooky cupcakes to a group of teens in animal onesies and a scone to an adorable child in a bumblebee costume. There’s only one more group before Robert and Mary. A middle-aged woman with a young boy by her side. She’s dressed as Cinderella, her son struggling to stay close when her puffy skirt is trying so hard to push him away. He seems to be a zombie. Cinderella and a zombie. Halloween was great.

She orders… Oh god, she’s still going. Soy this, several pumps this, no foam, blah blah blah. “Um, ma’am, could you repeat that? But a little slower. I’m still a little new to this job.”

She gives Vik a look that very quickly tells him that this has somehow completely ruined her night. He half expects her to ask to speak to the manager, but she doesn’t. “If you’re new, then why do they have you out here on such a busy night? Doesn’t seem like a very smart business decision.”

“…Do you want me to get my manager?”

“I want you to stop being incompetent, but I guess I can settle for speaking to someone who actually knows how to make a latte.”

Vik stands there for a moment, a little miffed. It’s not like he’s allowed to snap back at her, so he simply turns and looks at Lucien. “Can you make Cinderella here her latte?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Lucien shrugs, allowing Vik to step back while he took the ladies order. He turns to make the drink relatively quickly, handing it off to her. When she’s gone, he looks back to Vik. “She asked for three pumps, I only gave her one. Bitch.” He huffs, going back to his previous position. 

Vik snorts, stepping up to smile at Mary and Robert. Mary’s wearing darker makeup, along with a black outfit. Robert is in his usual attire, but he looks a little paler. There’s what seem to be bite marks on his neck, and two holes dripping red blood down his neck and collar. “What’s he supposed to be?”

Mary smirks, opening her mouth to flash her own vampire fangs. “Our juicebox.” Vik bursts into laughter, grinning wide. “I thought it was clever.” She grins, glancing up to the menu. “Sorry Cinderella rode your dick so much. That’s Martha. She goes to our church and she’s like that all the time. Give me a Macchiato DeMarco and Smalls here a Hot Cocorosie.”

“Alright.” Vik nods, letting Lucien take care of Mary’s drink while he makes Robert’s. It doesn’t take him very long, placing the two drinks on the counter.

“I want all of those sugar cookies.” Robert suddenly says, eyeing them in the display. “The ghost ones. All of them.”

“That’s like a dozen cookies.”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Vik arches a brow, but retrieves a literal dozen ghost shaped sugar cookies for Robert. Robert pays cash, and him and Mary step out of line but don’t leave the counter. Vik serves the next few people in line, and is thankful when there finally seems to be a break. Robert has gone through half of the cookies on the plate already.

“How are you real?” Vik inquires, receiving a grin from Robert. He shrugs, biting the head off of a ghost. Neon sprinkles fall to his shirt, but he doesn’t notice. 

“Dammit,” Mary mutters, looking at her phone. “I gotta go for a bit. Apparently the twins scared some kid to the point he pissed his pants. I gotta go help Joseph with the herd.” She huffs, bumping her shoulder with Robert’s. “Night’s still young. We’re doing something fun afterwards.”

“That goes without saying.”

She smirks, ducking past him and strolling out of the café with her drink in hand. They both watch her leave, gazes finally settling on one another.

Robert pauses for a moment, seeming to debate something. Then he walks around to the back of the counter.

“Robert, you’re not supposed to be back here.”

He says nothing.

Vik arches a brow at him, sighing loudly. “If Mat asks, I asked you to leave and you refused.”

“Of course.” Robert smirks, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate. “What’d you take me for? The kind who’d take you down with me? Damn, Vik. I’m hurt.” He moves, suddenly sinking down to the floor. His back is against the counter, and he’s out of sight of customers.

“Why are you on the floor?”

No reply. He just gets comfortable, and sips at his drink. Vik decides that asking anymore would be futile, and leans his elbows against the counter and rests there. Another customer approaches, making an order. Lucien behind him starts making it, so Vik doesn’t move. He just accepts her payment.

He jumps a little when he feels a hand touch his knee, having to remind himself that Robert is down there. The hand slides over the inner area between his knees, which is fine. At least, until Robert’s hand begins moving upward. Oh god, what is he doing? How red is Vik’s face? He swallows thickly, wiggling his leg a little as if to discourage Robert. That does nothing besides make the other squeeze his inner leg in a way that is tantalizingly delicious. 

Then suddenly Robert’s hand drops, and Vik almost misses it. That is, until Lucien is handing him the drink to give to the customer. He hands it off, thankful that she didn’t seem to notice him behaving strangely. He pulls back to look at Robert, at a loss for words. Robert looks up at him and just shrugs. 

Pablo makes his way behind the counter, setting the broom aside and pausing to take in the sight of Robert on the ground. “Floor party?”

“Yeah.”

Pablo shrugs his shoulders, moving to sit on the floor as well. “Guess I’m glad Mat makes me mop this floor so often.” He grins, moving to playfully wrap an arm around one of Lucien’s legs and yanking the other closer. He rests his cheek against his boyfriend’s knee, and despite Lucien’s red face, he doesn’t argue. “So, what are we doing at said floor party?”

“Well, I was feeling Vik up.” Robert shrugs, and Vik gives him a light little kick in the side.

“Sounds like fun.” Pablo chuckles, playfully running a hand higher up Lucien’s leg. He smacks it away, and Pablo leans in to bite Lucien through his jeans. The grey-haired teen lets out a loud squeak, pushing Pablo off of himself. 

“Not at _work_!” Lucien hisses, quickly marching off and disappearing into the back. Pablo watches after him, pouting. He starts crawling towards the back door after Lucien.

“Pablo, what the hell are you doing?” Vik finally asks, vaguely wondering if it was a full moon and everyone was just going to act like this all night.

“I’m chasing him down. I’m also taking the floor party very seriously.” He turns to look at Vik, before shrugging. “I may have lit up in the bathroom for a bit. Let me enjoy my high, dude.” 

Vik gives up, leaving Pablo to crawl away. “I swear they’re usually not this weird. I mean, Pablo smoking in the bathroom is pretty normal but… I don’t know what’s gotten into everyone tonight.”

“It’s Halloween.” Robert says, as if that explains everything. He pauses, his hand moving back to Vik’s leg. His fingers trail upwards again, stopping just a few inches short of Vik’s groin. He rubs firm circles there, causing a shudder to run through Vik. “You know what I realized? I don’t have to worry about accidentally giving you a boner while we’re out in public.” He grins, flashing a smirk up at Vik. 

“You are awful,” Vik whines a bit, unable to dislodge Robert’s hand from his leg. Part of him really doesn’t want it to leave, but he’s at work. Which unfortunately makes it all a little hotter, but Vik wasn’t going to say that aloud. Robert certainly didn’t need to know that he was enjoying this. “What if you get one?”

“I already have one. Why do you think my jacket is in my lap?”

“Robert, you know very well that if you want to have sex with me, you could’ve done it yesterday when I wasn’t at work.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you. I mean, I do. But I’m not going to.” He shrugs, squeezing Vik’s thigh a little harder. Oh wow, that hurts. But in the best way possible. “Not yet. But if I gotta wait and suffer, so do you.”

“Any particular reason you’re putting it off?”

Robert goes quiet, and when Vik looks at him he can tell that his face has gone serious again. He gives a quick glance around to make sure there are no customers who immediately need help, and crouch down next to Robert. Christ, his hand was not helping Vik’s brain form coherent thoughts. 

“I uh.” Robert starts, making a face. His brows knit together like he’s concentrating. “Fuck, okay so. That therapy thing I’m doing. I thought it was pretty useless at first but I gotta say the lady says some pretty smart shit and… Augh,” he huffs, retracting his hand and running it through his own hair. Vik could see how much he was struggling with trying to convey his thoughts. “I’m trying to cut back on a lot of shit, okay? Drinking in particular and… She just told me to be careful not to replace one vice with another and all that jazz. And I just… I’m not going to fuck this up by making you a vice. So, I’m not gonna have sex with you until I think I can handle it. I’ve always been selfish, but I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to end up using you to make myself feel better.”

Vik pauses for a moment, watching Robert’s eyes fall downward to the floor. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on the other’s temple. “Robert?” He glances up, eyes barely meeting Vik’s. “You might not think you’re a good person, but the way you’re so considerate of how your actions affect me really says the opposite.” He reaches up, fluffing Robert’s hair before standing up and scaring a customer who was standing at the counter. “Oh gosh, sorry! I was uh. Cleaning.”

The rest of Vik’s shift goes relatively normally, besides Robert occasionally making his presence on the floor known by placing his hands somewhere inappropriate. Mary comes back once the shop is coming to a close, her face full of exasperation. 

“Kids were a handful?” Vik inquires, tilting his head at her sympathetically. He could not imagine trying to raise four Amanda’s at once. 

“Joey and I seem like the only parents in town who think the twins creepy schtick is funny. Who cares if it made your kid cry? Maybe your kid shouldn’t be such a pussy.” Mary snorts, making her way back to the counter. “Where’s Robert?” 

Robert’s hand raises from the floor, just visible over the edge of the counter. 

“What the fuck is he doing?”

“I ask myself that every time I’m around him.” Vik jokes, flashing a toothy grin. “Right now, he’s clung to my leg like a koala on a branch. Or a sloth. They both hug branches, right?” 

“Koalas hug, sloths usually hang.” Robert answers from below the counter, not loosening his grip on Vik’s leg. “Brush up on your marsupial facts, chief. They’re great creatures.”

“Grace me with some more animal facts, Robert. Give me the best ones you’ve got.”

Robert arches a brow, prepared for the challenge. “If you hold a kangaroo’s tail, they can’t hop because they can’t balance themselves anymore. Cows can sleep standing up, but can only dream while lying down. Hippos sweat pink. Alligators cannot move backwards. Squirrels cannot see the color red. Sharks can never stop moving or they’ll sink. Flamingos can only eat when their heads are upside down. Frogs cannot swallow without blinking. There’s your animal knowledge for the day. Make good use of it.”

“Robert, I have half a mind to make you work at the shelter.” Mary leans over the counter so she can peer down at him.

“I’m not really the job type, Mary.” Robert reminds her. “Doesn’t really coincide with my habit of sleeping until three PM and disappearing off the face of the earth for days at a time.”

“Robert, I own the place. I’m not going to actually give you a work schedule.” Mary snorts, rolling her eyes. “Just show up whenever, do stuff, leave. All you gotta do is sign in and out so I can keep track of your hours. Just think about it, alright? All you’d be doing is spending time with animals.”

“Mary, please don’t do a sales pitch in my place of business.” Mat jokes from the door that leads to the back. He comes forward, pausing to see Robert still on the floor.

“Vik, I’ll pay you more than Mat does.”

“Vik, Mary is a liar. I already give you free coffee and pastries. She can’t give you those things, baby.”

Vik laughs a bit, watching the two of them trying to sweeten the deal. Mary finally gives in, waving her hand in surrender. “Fine, fine. You can keep him Mat. I guess I’ll just keep all my adorable animals all to myself.”

* * *

_Tuesday, October 31st, 2017_

“This is not what I had in mind,” Mary groans from the backseat of Robert’s truck. She leans forward so her head is in between the front seats. “Do you know how many cool Halloween parties are happening tonight? I wanted to go drinking.”

“Halloween is the midway point between the Autumn equinox and the winter solstice. Astrological events often coincide with cryptid sightings.” Robert explains as he continues down the highway. It’s a little after ten now, and it’s a very dark night. The sky is completely clouded up, blocking out any light the moon or stars could offer. 

“Robert, what are you going to do if we _actually_ run into a cryptid? What if Big Foot kidnaps Vik? What are you going to do?”

“Let him have me.” Vik says, shrugging. “I appreciate a guy with a lot of body hair. Big Foot can have me.”

“You heard the man, Mary.” Robert laughs. “If we find anything else, I have some other stuff we can make use of.”

“Like what?”

“I have a shotgun in the back.”

“Dear god,” Mary huffs, putting her face in her hands. “I think the idea of you with a gun is scarier than any monster that might eat us.”

Robert pulls off the main road after a while, taking an exit and following that for a good ten minutes. Then he makes a sudden turn onto a dirt path that neither Vik nor Mary even noticed. They continue along that for what seems like forever, Robert’s headlights becoming the only source of light in the pitch blackness of night. Eventually Robert eases to a stop, putting the car in park and opening the door. He hops out and goes around back, waiting for Vik and Mary to follow.

“What the hell is this?” Mary mouths when Robert moves the plastic tarp that had been covering his tailgate. There’s a series of melee weapons set out, all making Mary and Vik feel as if they’re in a zombie movie.

Vik reaches forward, grasping the handle of a wooden baseball bat. Closer inspection quickly reveals that the head is wrapped in barbed wire. “Robert, do me a favor. Just. Hold this. And tell me that you’re Negan. And then smash my skull in with it.”

“Vik, did you need to say that with so much sexual need in your voice?”

“ _Yes_ , Mary. Have you seen Negan? I want that man to do awful things to me. Like beat me to a pulp with his baseball bat. Or literally anything that results in my death. I’m ready for it.”

“Robert, do you see what you’ve done? The kid’s gone nuts.” Mary huffs, staring at the remaining weapons left in the truck-bed. “Is that a sword?”

“A katana.”

“What the absolute fuck, Robert?” Mary huffs, moving to grab the sheathed sword and sliding the blade out a few inches. The way it glistens in the taillights makes Mary falter for a moment. “Okay, I’m taking this one.” Leave it to a sword to make a girl feel like a badass. 

“Alright,” Robert says, making sure his hunting knife is properly attached to his belt. He retrieves some flashlights from a cooler in the back, handing one each to Vik and Mary. “Stick close, be quiet, and don’t wander off on your own. And don’t scream. Cryptids feed on your fear.”

The three of them begin their trek deeper into the woods. It smells heavily of pine and cedarwood. Leaves and needles crunch underneath their feet, alerting the woodland life around them of their presence. Occasionally Robert would turn quickly, ready to shoot, just to see a squirrel running from one tree to another. They see a deer at some point, and Mary snorts and tells Robert to ‘shoot Bambi’. 

“I’m never going to forgive you for that joke,” Robert informs her, turning a serious gaze on her. His eyes are hard, his face unreadable. Robert Small cried a lot while watching Bambi with his daughter when she was barely out of diapers. That movie still made his heart hurt.

The deer finally turns and bolts in another direction when Robert starts walking again, so the others follow suit. Vik knows it’s a little silly and purely psychological, but he’s a bit scared. The dark wasn’t actually a bad thing, but years of horror movies mixed with the inability to see more than a few feet in front of him makes anxiety swell up in a knot at the pit of his abdomen. The worst they were going to run into would be a coyote or a fox. There could be bears, though. Vik makes a face at that, knowing that this is probably the time of year that the creatures were stuffing themselves before hiding out for long periods of time during the winter months. 

They’ve been walking for a good hour now, and Vik isn’t sure what direction the truck was in. Were they still walking away from it? Had they turned around? He tries to stifle his own nerves, knowing that Robert did this pretty often and would know how to find their way back. Probably. There’s about a fifty percent chance he knows. 

“Shit,” Mary says suddenly, causing Robert to turn his head and look at her over his shoulder. “I just remembered our plan.”

“What plan?”

“Vik, our plan.” She starts, turning to look at the man tailing at the backend of the group. “From the other night.”

“I was hoping you’d forget it entirely,” Vik admits, grimacing. 

“I did, until just now. For some reason that I really don’t understand. I will not question the dark recesses of my mind that store my drunken memories, or why they come into sudden clarity at seemingly random times.”

“What plan?” Robert finally inquires, giving a glance around before turning his back. He’s a little annoyed that nobody is keeping quiet, and probably scaring off whatever cryptid was lingering around here, but he was also a nosey bitch. 

“Vik is my secret boyfriend.” Mary answers, giving a shrug. “I thought it would be fun to scare Joseph by making him think something is going on between Vik and I.”

Robert arches a brow at that, his brain spiraling back to the night he came home. Joseph grasping his sleeve on the porch, eyes full of guilt and worry. Joseph, saying he loved him, pleading with him to listen to him. Joseph, his lips soft and warm and wrong, pressed close to his own. He shoves those thoughts aside quickly, just turning and going back to walking. “What if he gets mad at Vik?”

“We aren’t actually going to have an affair,” Mary rolls her eyes, following after Robert. “So there won’t be anything to actually get mad over. However, I will come clean if things get too sloppy. Tell Joseph it was all my doing to make him believe it and that Vik didn’t even know.”

“It’s going to blow up in our faces,” Vik says, and Mary cuts him a look.

“It’ll be fine!” Mary heaves an annoyed sigh. “Besides, if Joey gets mad, I can point out that he kissed Vik before I did.”

“Wait, what?” Robert stops, spinning around to look at the two of them. It’s not very often to see Robert Small with a genuinely surprised expression on his face, so Mary and Vik are a little lost for words for a moment. “When the fuck did he kiss Vik?”

Mary pauses, finally turning back towards the other man. “When did that happen, anyway? I never ever asked for details. Was it good? Was there tongue? Were there _teeth_?” Her brows waggle playfully, giving Vik a shove. 

Vik scoffs, making a face. “It happened the first youth group night, okay? We both had too much to drink. I don’t even think he remembers it happened. If he does, he hasn’t mentioned it.”

“That only answers my first question.” Mary snarks, moving to wrap an arm around Vik’s shoulders and lean her weight into him. “Details, now. Don’t be shy in front of Robert. He’s not gonna be mad at you.”

Robert’s face is unreadable. He isn’t sure what to do with this information. Part of him is very angry, but part of him… Is jealous. But in all the wrong ways. It didn’t stem from Joseph putting his hands on Vik, but from Joseph putting his hands on anyone. Part of him wants to go tear Joseph a new one, and part of him wants to go home and let his imagination run wild over the idea of Joseph and Vik, pressed close together, teeth on each other’s skin, flushed red… _Fuck_ , he thinks as he tries to shake his head clean of those thoughts. What was wrong with him?

“It’s hazy for me too, okay?” Vik admits, making a face. “We were talking. I don’t remember much of what it was about. It was sad, though. I know that because we hugged and I don’t remember who was crying. Maybe it was both of us?” He makes a face, reaching up to rub at his temple as if he could massage the memories loose.

“You guys were crying?” Mary scoffs, sighing. “Way to take all the heat out of it. Can’t even fantasize about the two of you properly getting it on.” Robert is suddenly very relieved that he is not the only one who’s brain went there. “Tell me it got at least a little hot.”

Vik makes a face, unsure of how he wants to continue. Robert didn’t look necessarily angry, but he certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying this the way Mary was. “I… I remember him suddenly moving us around so I was on my back in those beach chairs he has in his office and it was like, when did he get so strong? How did that even happen?”

“Oh yeah, Joey’s a man-handler.” Mary chimes, past the point of jealousy. Hell, she was past anger at this point. This little revenge scheme was mostly out of boredom, if she was being entirely honest. She was too tired to care that much about whatever Joseph did. “What next?”

“He uh, bit my lip.” This was the point where Vik vividly remembered that night. Not because of Joseph’s actions, but because of how similar they had been to the first time him and Robert had kissed on his couch. “Everything was just, really fuzzy in my head until I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket and kinda came back to reality I guess. I told him to stop and I left. And then I got lost in the church because I was still very drunk.”

Robert had relaxed a bit at hearing the rest of the story. The phone vibrating had been his doing. He had been texting Vik pretty relentlessly during that time because he had a bad feeling in his gut. And he had been right.

Mary lets out a bark of a laugh at that, shaking her head. “You left out the part about how you got that hickey on your collar bone you kept trying to hide.”

Vik makes a face, huffing. “Okay, so he bit me a bit. That was about the same time I was coming back to reality.”

That on the other hand, bothered Robert. Joseph hadn’t even liked biting until he came along. God, his head was swimming with confusing thoughts. He felt so off kilter, so disgusting. Why did this have to be the place his thoughts went to? 

“Robert, you’ve been awfully quiet.” Mary chimes, letting go of Vik and heading over to bump shoulders with the taller man. She had an idea where his brain might be, of how he might be sweating over this. She wasn’t mad at him after everything that happened, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy fucking with him.

“Just reveling over the fact that I cockblocked Joseph with a text message.” Robert finally replies, turning on his heel. “We should probably make our way back. This forest seems like a dead end.”

* * *

_Wednesday, November 1st, 2017_

It’s past midnight now, as the three of them finally find their way back to the truck. It was a relatively quiet walk back, and Vik is feeling particularly awkward after the Joseph conversation. Mary hates her husband for cheating on her, Robert for the same reason, yet Mary wants to hear about what Joseph does behind her back? He guesses her sense of humor was probably part of that. It takes a lot of energy to be bitter, and sooner or later she probably just reached the point where it was easier to laugh at her own misery than it was to be angry over it. 

“Shotgun!” Mary calls as she dumps her sword in the back and opens the door. She waves to Vik, making him crawl into the tiny backseat. She pushes the passenger seat back, before climbing in. Robert fumbles in the back of the truck for a long minute before he joins them.

The drive back to the highway is quiet, but only for so long. Mostly because the highway isn’t where it’s supposed to be and Robert is knitting his brows in confusion. He’s been down this trail dozens of times before and never gotten lost. “We’re not lost,” he says before anyone in the car can say what they’re all thinking.

“I sure as shit hope we aren’t.” Mary makes a face, taking out her phone and trying to use her GPS. No signal. “Stupid trees, blocking out the cell reception.”

“Just turn around?” Vik offers, checking his own phone. No signal either. “It’s dark and getting foggy. You probably just got a little off track. It’s hard to tell out here.”

Robert obeys silently, turning around to stare out the back window as he backtracks past trees and shrubbery. He turns carefully, finding the original dirt path once again and trying to figure out where to go from there. But it seemed to just end, like there was never a trail back to the highway in the first place. He furrows his brows, letting out a huff and surprised by the steam that rises in the air. When had it become so cold? 

“Robert, if this is some sort of fucked up prank to scare us, I’m going to cut your dick off.” Mary glares daggers, moving to adjust the air conditioning just to realize that Robert hadn’t secretly turned it on. She pauses, eyes locked on the knob for a long moment before slinking back to Robert. “Robert, what’s going on?”

“I haven’t the foggiest fuckin’ clue.” He finally admits, taking a look around. His eyes scan the woods around them, but between the fog, the trees, and the dark, he cannot pinpoint anything out of place besides the trail. “Vik, there’s a duffel on the floor back there. Grab the little box shaped thing with knobs on it.”

Vik rubs his arms, wishing he had worn a jacket. He turns, digging through the duffel bag and finding the device Robert had described. “Is this… An EVP meter?” He stares at it for a long moment, finding the on/off switch and watching the thing light up to life. “This is the coolest thing ever. Guys, we’re ghost hunting. We’re actually the Dogbones.”

“I’m Callum, you’re Flynt.” Robert replies, moving to turn in his seat to get a look at the EVP meter. It’s making a quiet static noise, most of the colorful bulbs dark. There’s one that keeps flickering and getting Vik’s hopes up, but alas, no ghosts are speaking. “Weird. Sudden drops in temperature are usually indicative of ghosts.”

“It’s also about to be November,” Mary finally cuts in, arms crossed over her chest to preserve warmth. “Maybe it’s starting to get cold? A chilly wind passed through?”

“Possibly. Wouldn’t explain why the trail is suddenly gone, though.” Mary purses her lips at Robert’s words, having no explanation for that. 

“Maybe Big Foot came through and covered it in leaves,” Mary offers up, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve been through these woods a million times, Mary. There’s no Big Foot here, unfortunately. I would’ve found him by now.” Robert settles back in his seat, eyes darting around. It’s hard to tell, but he’s nervous. His fingers drum on the steering wheel, wondering what the best method of escape would be. 

“The sad thing is that you’re completely serious about that.” Mary groans, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the glove compartment. “We should’ve gone drinking. I would be warm, wasted, and not about to be murdered by ghosts or Jersey Devils or jackalopes or a wendigo or whatever the hell this is.”

“The Chippewa people had some old tails about these woods,” Robert admits, lighting a cigarette and sucking down some nicotine to soothe his nerves. “A wendigo isn’t entirely impossible. Wendigos would hunt down anyone who was guilty of gluttony, selfishness, or cannibalism. Big jump between those three, yeah, but they’d hunt you down and turn you into one of ‘em. Vik can be gluttony, I’ll be selfishness, and Mary, well. You know what you get.”

“You’re the one who’s into biting. You should be the cannibal.”

“You and Vik are dressed as vampires. You guys get gluttony and cannibalism. Simple as that.” Robert snorts, finally moving to turn the truck around. He creeps down the trail slowly, struggling to see past the fog. “Would be pretty funny if we died, though. They find our bodies, and y’all got fangs and I’m full of holes.” He starts to laugh, only for it to come to a dead stop at the way the truck lurches. He ran over something, something that makes a sickly _crunch_ under the tire and lets out a shriek. “Fuck, oh god.” Robert opens the door, his first instinct telling him it was an animal. Except it’s not. What the _fuck_ is that? His heart leaps into his throat as the creature grasps at his ankle roughly, claws slicing the fabric of his jeans like they were made of flimsy paper. He also shrieks, a not so graceful or brave sound, and leans back into the open front seat. He kicks at the wrist of the creature, hissing as nails puncture his skin. In his state of panic, he drives the heel of his boot into the things fingers over and over again until it finally releases him. He yanks himself inside, slamming the truck door.

“What the absolute _fuck_ just happened??”

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding, holy shit. What is that?” 

There’s this bone-chilling scraping sound from outside the truck. The creature, whatever the fuck it is, still stuck under the wheel. It’s clawing at the paint of Robert’s door, trying to find a way in. It gives the truck a shove, Mary hissing as the movement makes her hit her head on the window. Vik nearly loses his own balance, eyes going wide. Neither of them have a chance to speak before Robert is revving the car and begins driving. He can only go so fast between the trees, which causes more fear and frustration to well up inside of him. He catches a glimpse of the creature behind them, still pressed down into the dirt of the ground. It doesn’t get up, but Robert doesn’t stop. Soon enough the trees are thinning out, and suddenly the highway is there. Robert has to hit the brakes quickly, almost cutting off a car that was passing. It honks at him angrily a few times, but doesn’t stop. 

Robert pulls off onto the highway, continuing to drive a little over the speed limit all the way back home. Nobody speaks; there’s no words to convey what just happened. Robert doesn’t stop until they’re back in town. He pulls to a stop outside a bleak looking strip mall; the same one he took Vik to when he threw that rock and broke some poor person’s car window. He turns the truck off, pulling the key out of the ignition. The shock and adrenaline are weening their way out of his system now, and the pain in his ankle is becoming very real. “God, I need a fucking drink.”

“Second that.”

“Third.” 

Nobody moves, though. Not for a long minute. Mary is the first to suck up the courage to leave the truck, unbuckling herself and opening the door. She’s shaky on her feet, and the two of them watch her slowly wobble her way to the unnaturally lit liquor store. 

“Are you okay?” Vik finally manages, unbuckling his belt and slipping up onto the glove box. His head is against the roof of the cockpit, but he’s too concerned about Robert to mind the discomfort that much. “You were bleeding.”

“I’m fine. It just scratched me is all.” 

“Let me see.” Robert, sensing that Vik wasn’t going to relent, carefully brings his foot up into the seat so they can see it. He reaches up, flicking the switch of the only interior light that still worked. He pauses for a long moment, wincing at how much blood was soaking into his jeans and streaking down his yellow boots. “Robert, you need stitches. Holy shit.”

“I’ll ask Mary to do them. She tried to learn how to crochet once. Can’t be that different.” He mutters, voice a little hoarse. Between the screaming and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he’s amazed he can still talk at all. 

“Move to the passenger seat. I can drive you to the hospital.” Robert groans a bit, but doesn’t have the energy to fight Vik on this. He gets out of the truck, wincing as he puts weight onto his foot. He leans his body against the truck, allowing it to support him. Vik follows him out, frowning and wrapping an arm around his waist. He’s suddenly thankful for Craig making him bench press, knowing otherwise he would’ve struggled a lot more with helping Robert around to the other side of the truck.

When Mary leaves the store, she’s already nursing one of the bottles. She feels a little more human after interacting with someone else in a brightly lit store, but the sinking feeling is back as soon as she catches sight of Robert limping around the truck and getting into the passenger seat. She comes over, throat burning with warmth and her skin feeling clammy. “Is it bad?”

“He needs to go to the hospital.” Vik says, sighing softly. “Don’t let him drink.” There’s a noise of disagreement coming from Robert, but Vik waves it off. “Alcohol is a blood thinner. He’s not allowed to bleed out on the way there.”

Mary says nothing more, moving to crawl over the glove box in the least ladylike fashion imaginable, and flopping down in the back seat with her paper-bagged bottles. She sucks down a little too much Jameson on the way to the hospital, capping the bottle and putting it on the floor. 

They each take one of Robert’s sides, and soon enough the three of them are in a brightly lit waiting room. The place is pretty packed, which wasn’t abnormal for Halloween night. When the guy behind the reception counter asks what happened, none of them know what to say. Finally, Robert claims he was attacked by some animal in the woods, but it was too dark to know what it was. 

Luckily, given his rate of bleeding, Robert gets taken back relatively quickly. Mary and Vik are left in the waiting room, eyes not meeting and at a loss for words. It’s weighing on them both now, the exhaustion from the adrenaline crashing. Mary falls asleep after a few minutes, head resting against Vik’s shoulder. He’s suddenly left to his own thoughts.

They could’ve actually died. Whatever that thing was could’ve very well killed them. He feels the overwhelming compulsion to call his daughter. His fingers tremble as he taps icons on his phone, placing the phone to his ear. It rings a few times before she picks up. “Hey dad! One second, it’s loud in here.” Vik has so many things he wants to say, but he can hear the loud music and talking in the background. It takes a minute, but soon enough the noise behind Amanda is fading and he can hear her clearly. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Vik starts, realizing he isn’t sure what to say. “I’m at the hospital. I’m okay, but… I’m not sure what happened. Robert, Mary, and I went out in the woods and there was this thing and it attacked Robert and I’m… I don’t feel very real right now.”

“Holy shit,” Amanda mutters, sighing loudly against the phone. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. The thing got his ankle. Just needs some stitches, probably.”

“Have you told Val yet?”

Oh shit. Val. Robert’s child. She should’ve probably known this first. “No, I haven’t. Um… I don’t think I have her number.”

“I’ll send it to you.” Amanda says, taking a deep breath. “Love you, dad. Keep me updated.”

“Love you too, Panda. I will. Text me when you get back to your dorm, okay? And be safe. Don’t drink too much. And stay hydrated.”

“Got it, dad.” And the line goes dead. Vik sighs loudly, his phone almost instantly lighting up with a text from Amanda. Val’s contact information. He stares at it for a long moment before he finally calls her.

“Hey—”

“Val, it’s Vik—”

“—You’ve reached the phone of Valentia Small. I’m not answering my phone because I’m either busy or dead. Maybe there’s a serial killer in my house and I’m trying to hide, and you calling me just alerted him to my location and you’ve gotten me killed. Seriously though, if it’s that important, text me and I’ll call you back.”

She is, hands-down, Robert Small’s flesh and blood. Vik hangs up and shakily starts to send her a text. He has to backspace a lot, frustrated by how shaky his fingers are.

  
Vik: Val, it’s Vik. Answer your phone, it’s important.  


It feels like the longest two minutes of his life waiting for Val to read his message. Her call pops up almost immediately, though. Vik answers it, but doesn’t have a chance to speak. “Is my dad okay?”

“Yeah,” Vik reassures her, taking a deep breath. “He just needs some stitches mostly. He’ll be fine, though.”

“Dammit,” Val huffs, quiet for an uncomfortably long moment. “What’d he do? Another fucking bar fight?” The amount of disappointment in Val’s voice makes Vik’s desire to defend Robert flare up.

“No,” he says quickly, having to pause and remember that this is Robert’s daughter. Her feelings are probably justified. “It was an animal or… Something. I don’t know. It was dark and it all happened so fast. He thought he ran it over while we were in the woods and he freaked out and it was still alive and…” He trails off, feeling a little light-headed. What had the thing been? He didn’t have a chance to get a good look at it, but from what he saw, it certainly didn’t look like any animal he’s ever seen.

Val is quiet for a moment. “Cryptid hunting?”

“It’s Halloween, so yeah.”

Vik can imagine Val nodding, probably dressed in whatever costume she had put together. She was probably out with friends right now. Drinking and having fun. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, okay? He should be totally fine, though.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks Vik. And… Thank you for…” She trails off, making a quiet noise. It vaguely resembles that little grunt Robert makes when he isn’t sure how to say something. “Look, things are rough between dad and I but… They’re a lot better now than they have been in a long time. While he was up here with me he… He talked about you a lot. You’re good for him in a way that I don’t think anyone ever has been before. I’m still trying to like, unlearn his past behaviors and shit and just… Get to know him, I guess. So sometimes I assume the worst of him, but I’m allowed to do that. And you’re allowed to prove me wrong. So just… Thanks for like. I don’t know. Making my dad realize he doesn’t have to be shitty if he doesn’t want to be, I guess.”

Vik sits there for a moment, feeling a little misty eyed. He swallows deeply, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “I think he just needed a push, really. Someone to remind him that he’s just as capable of being good as any other person is. I’m glad things are going well between you two, okay? You deserve to have a good dad, Val.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, but Vik doesn’t mind. The silence with Val is comfortable, as is the silence with Robert. “Thank you. Okay, I’m going to go. If you ever tell dad that I went soft with you, I will make you regret it. Bye, Vik.”

“I’ll take it to my grave. G’night Val.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have i ever mentioned just how much i love val? no? well i do. so much. 
> 
> tune in on monday for chapter eight which is a doozy. an emotional, angsty doozy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: sad vik is sad, robert and mary have a great text conversation, a youth group meeting, Yacht Wine, and some angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know halloween isnt until tomorrow BUT happy halloween guys!!! hope yall have a fun holiday and eat a lot of candy
> 
> also let me tell you this is an INTENSE chapter in a lot of ways. theres a lot of emotional stuff going on and its rly good and i love it

_Tuesday, November 7th, 2017_

The morning shift at The Coffee Spoon was nothing out of the ordinary. Things went smoothly, even if the breakfast rush was hellish as always. Someone brought a dog in at some point, which was absolutely fantastic. Well, until Lucien started having an asthma attack. Vik couldn’t imagine being cursed like that. Allergic to a creature so pure and full of joy. He pitied that poor boy so much.

Now it’s just half-past noon and Vik is unlocking his front door. He wonders if maybe a nap would be appropriate. He was up late the night before, marathoning reruns of Haunted House Flippers: Seattle. He would regret his choice, but watching the hosts try to remodel a shabby little house while being attacked by ghosts was such a treat. 

The house is silent. Empty. Vik knows it’s going to be empty, it has been for months, but it still stings anytime he dwells on it. He flops down into the couch cushions, using his feet to kick off his own shoes. He doesn’t move for a solid ten minutes, just staring at the ceiling and feeling worse and worse. He finally hiccups a bit, reaching up to rub his palms against his eyes. 

The last few days had been rough emotionally. Not that Vik didn’t find existence in general taxing on his emotional wellbeing, but things had been extra tough as of late. There wasn’t any particular reason for it; at least, none that Vik could think of. He was just in a rut. It happens. More often than he liked, but still, it would pass. Eventually. 

The previous day during counseling, he had tried to explain it to Joseph. How things were always hard, but sometimes for no real reason they were just even more difficult. He had listened, had offered some advice, but a lot of it went in one ear and out the other. Trying to process anything took far more focus than Vik had the energy to afford, currently. 

Rolling onto his side, he buries his face in the cushions and stifles the next round of sobs. It’s no use, though. The floodgates had broken, might as well let them run their course. So, he does. He curls up on the couch and hugs a pillow tightly and cries ugly and loud until his throat is hoarse and his eyes burn, and everything feels numb. It isn’t a situation where crying makes him feel better, not in the slightest. But at least it’s over with. 

Vik feels his phone buzz in his pocket, but the idea of talking to anyone at the moment is less than appealing. Sleeping away the exhaustion and emptiness was his only plan of action. But then his phone buzzed again. And again. It’s probably Robert. He should probably answer it.

Robert is awake at noon, though. That means it’s a good day. Bringing him down with Vik’s unexplainable sadness would be criminal. The phone buzzes for a solid two minutes before Vik digs it out of his pocket and shoves it under the couch cushions. He can still hear it, but it’s much quieter. Quiet enough to ignore and finally fall asleep.

* * *

  
Robert: why did we not have a group text before this moment   
Robert: you both disappoint me for not thinking of this sooner   
Robert: like wtf   
Robert: this saves me so much time if i can just send shit to both of you at the same time   
Mary: For the love of God, do not send me your dick pics.   
Robert: you’re no fun   
Mary: Robert, I have known you for over a decade.   
Mary: And somehow, during all that time, I have never seen your penis.   
Mary: I would like it to remain a mystery. You owe me this.   
Robert: fine   
Robert: but only because i actually owe you and not because of our friendship   
Mary: Obviously.   
Mary: Is Vik at work?   
Robert: nope   
Robert: his car is outside his house    
Robert: he’s probably waiting for my dick pics   
Mary: Well you better not make him wait too long.   
Robert: man all of the ones in my phone are shitty   
Robert: why does the lighting in my house suck   
Robert: brb gotta go outside   
Mary: Natural lighting is the best lighting.   
Mary: Robert, are you actually outside taking pictures of your dick?   
Robert: yeah   
Mary: I am so glad we are friends.   
Robert: brian is mowing his lawn and he just waved at me on my balcony and i waved back   
Robert: he has no idea that i'm not wearing pants   
Mary: How many times have you jerked off on that balcony, Robert?   
Robert: don’t kinkshame me mary   
Mary: So… At least a dozen times.   
Robert: lmao   
Robert: more than that   
Robert: yanking one out in broad daylight in full view of everyone is a good time   
Robert: you can borrow my balcony sometime to try it   
Mary: I’ll pass.   
Robert: alright brb gotta nut   
Mary: Gross.   


* * *

_Wednesday, November 8th, 2017_

Having had the day off work, Vik spent most of it in bed. Could’ve been a lot more productive, but focusing on that fact brings tears to his eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets, doing his best to ignore the chill in the air as he walks. He’s thankful when the church is in sight, and welcomes the warmth from inside of it. He cuts through the nave and into the side hallway. Once he’s in the rec room, he catches Joseph’s eye and flashes him a weak smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, you’re fine,” Joseph reassures him, placing a hand between Vik’s shoulder blades and urging him forward towards the group of youths sitting in a circle of chairs. Vik takes a seat, and Joseph sits next to him. “Today is a fun kind of meeting. The kids get to ask questions and bounce answers off us and each other. Obviously if it gets inappropriate, I will wipe the conversation clean and we’ll start over. Who wants to start?”

Nobody raises their hand or speaks up. Joseph glances around the circle, the hope in his eyes fading as he quickly realizes that the youths didn’t understand how fun this idea could be. “Vik, how about you ask the first question? It can be about anything. Just keep it PG.”

Vik hesitates for a moment, wondering why the hell he had to be put on the spot like this. It didn’t help that Lucien had dragged Pablo to this meeting, and he can see the two of them quietly laughing and staring him down from across the circle. “Who… Else thinks ghosts are cool?

It is not what Joseph was hoping for, but the kids start talking. It’s not as organized as he wants, either, but that’s alright. He smiles at Vik, chuckling. “You love those reality shows with the ghosts, huh?”

“They’re a guilty pleasure.”

“Mmm,” Joseph hums, blue eyes taking in the circle. He’s good at this part. Focusing on what each child is talking about, looking out for curses or crude phrases. He’s relatively sure Ernest just said ‘fuck’, but he’s talking to Lucien and Lucien’s friend, so he lets it slide. Mostly because the kid actually looks like he’s enjoying the ghost conversation. 

“So, how does this exercise work? It just… Looks like all the youths are having their own conversations.”

“I’ll interject occasionally and allow someone else to ask questions. It’ll get more organized as it goes, but it always starts out like this.” Joseph shrugs, turning his blue eyes on Vik. Vik stares for a moment too long. “How are you doing? Any better since Monday?”

“…Not really,” Vik admits, bumping his shoes together and sheepishly keeping his eyes downcast. “I think I just need to wait it out, mostly. It’ll go away on its own. It usually does.”

“Alright. Well, just remember.” Joseph’s hand moves to Vik’s knee gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m always just a text away if you ever need someone to talk to. Seriously. You’re my friend Vik, and I care about you.” He retracts his hand, offering the softest of smiles. Vik notes how beautiful he is.

* * *

The rest of the youth groups session involves a lot of talking, really. It doesn’t get much more organized than it originally was, but at least the youths don’t look like they’d all rather be anywhere else than at church. When they’re dismissed, and their parents come to pick them up, they all seem a little bummed out to leave. It’s a nice change of pace.

Joseph begins the clean-up, stacking chairs and tidying up the snack table. Vik seems a little zoned out, so Joseph doesn’t pry for him to help too much. Once things are tidied up, he gently touches Vik’s shoulder. “Would you like to skip out on drinks tonight?” Vik shakes his head, and follows Joseph upstairs to his office. 

A few minutes of quiet mixing and blending lead to delicious drinks in their hands, and Joseph settled in one of his beach chairs. It’s quiet. Vik isn’t talking, and Joseph isn’t sure what to say. So, the two of them simply drink. Vik refills his glass when Joseph is only half-finished, but Joseph doesn’t comment on that either. The poor guy must be going through a lot, and he just wasn’t sure how to make it all better.

A few drinks later and the two of them are still sitting in silence. Joseph stretches out in his chair, eyes finding the ceiling. His brain is a little hazy around the edges, and his impulse control is dwindling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Vik says without much thought, finishing off the rest of his drink. “These are what, mango-orange flavored? They’re definitely making me more okay than I was.”

“Margaritas fix everything.” Joseph chuckles, running a hand up through his own hair. The longer the day went on, the less stiff his gel was. It was a fluffy mess of cornsilk by now. “I shall keep in mind that mangos are good. Watermelon is bad?”

“Watermelon flavored anything is awful. Same with grapefruits. Or green apple.”

“Sour apple is the best flavor,” Joseph says, sounding legitimately offended. He reaches over to give Vik a playful shove. “I will keep all of the delicious sour apples for myself, then.”

“Good. I don’t want them.” Vik is swishing the half-melted margarita around in the bottom half of his glass. He seems entranced by it. Joseph isn’t sure how much he’s had to drink. The blender is almost empty. 

“How are things with Robert?” _Why? Why why why?_ Joseph was internally yelling at himself for even asking. He isn’t sure what brought the question on. Jealousy, perhaps. Vik was a good person. Robert deserved someone good. But still, the idea of someone else making Robert smile in the way Joseph only thought he could, it made his stomach twist in knots. He _should_ be happy. He knew that. He felt awful for not being happy for Robert. 

“Good.” Vik replies softly, taking a sip of the orange liquid in his glass. Joseph notices the little umbrella he put in it was now in Vik’s hair. He wasn’t sure when that happened. It was cute. _Two seconds ago you were jealous of him and now he’s cute? Make up your mind._

“Are things… Serious?”

“…” Vik is quiet for a moment, and Joseph feels so guilty over the hope that raises in him when he registers Vik’s hesitation to answer. “It’s complicated. We’re taking things slow since neither of us are really in the best place to dive all in.”

“Ah, well that’s probably for the best. Rushing things leads to sloppy mistakes.” _Did that sound petty?_ Joseph finishes off his drink, moving to stare ahead at his chalkboard. He avoids looking at Vik until he notices movement in his peripheral. Vik takes the blender, pouring half of what’s left in his own glass, and the rest in Joseph’s. Vik gives a half-hearted toast and a slightly forced smile, so Joseph returns it. They both go right back to focusing on their drinks afterwards. Joseph hears Vik’s phone buzz in his pocket, but the other doesn’t move to answer it. It’s silent.

He should go home. _To what? Mary put the kids to bed on Wednesdays and would go out as soon as you came home. You don’t have anything to go home to besides an empty bed._ He doesn’t realize he’s squeezing the stem of his glass until he catches a glimpse of his knuckles, shown white through the skin. He relaxes his grip, letting out a low sigh. “So, you and Mary have been getting close.” _Did that sound accusatory? You didn’t mean for it to._

It has to. Vik looks caught off guard by Joseph’s question. There’s a little sense of hurt in his eyes that makes Joseph deflate. “Shit,” Joseph mutters, reaching up to rub at his temple. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t supposed to sound like that. I guess I’m just… Projecting my own issues on you.”

“It’s alright,” Vik says softly. Joseph doesn’t think it’s alright, but he doesn’t argue. “I know you’re the counselor or whatever but… We’re friends, right? You can talk to me when something is bothering you, Joseph.”

“It’s… It’s stupid.” Joseph shakes his head, unsure of what he could say. Mary has probably bad-mouthed him to Vik. Anything he says will sound like bullshit, or he’ll make the sense of jealousy he feels for the other known. 

“Joseph,” Vik’s voice is quiet, and his hand reaches out to gently touch Joseph’s shoulder. “Look, I slip in and out of severely depressive states for no reason whatsoever. I have panic attacks over nonsensical little things. I freak out over every detail. I simultaneously care too much and not enough about all the wrong things. And you validate all of my emotions when I tell you about them, no matter how stupid I think they are. So, like… You can talk to me.”

“…I just…” Joseph trails off, and hates the feeling of hot tears swelling in the corners of his eyes. “Don’t take this personally, alright? You are my friend and I care about you and this is entirely a reflection of myself but… Mary and Robert both _adore_ you. I used to have that. Those two used to be my whole life and now neither of them can stand me. And now you’re part of their little clique and I’m all alone.”

It’s completely silent for a moment, and Joseph has a sick feeling in his gut. _He hates you. You fucked this all up._ Then he hears the squeak of the chair sliding across the floor. He doesn’t look up, thinking that Vik must be getting up to leave. Except, suddenly, Vik’s head bumps Joseph’s. He goes to look up, but Vik’s arms wrap around him in a firm hug, cradling Joseph to his chest. It’s so startling and tender that Joseph breaks. 

Joseph cannot remember the last time he cried. It’s been a very, very long time. So, it’s understandable that the vulnerability and rawness leaking out of him is surprising. He clings to one of Vik’s arms, just wetly sobbing into the other’s shirt for a long twenty minutes. Vik’s fingers card through his hair gently and he makes a series of soft, soothing sounds against Joseph’s hair. Joseph cannot remember the last time he cried, and he certainly cannot remember the last time somebody held him in a way that made him feel so safe and cared for. _That’s a lie. You remember the last time you felt like this. You just don’t want to think about it._

When Joseph’s crying eventually stops, and his breathing begins to even out, he doesn’t retract from Vik’s warm embrace. The other’s phone has buzzed quite a few times in the last few minutes, but Vik hasn’t tried to check it. His hands are still in Joseph’s hair, rubbing soft circles into his scalp.

“Joseph,” Vik’s voice is quiet. “You know it’s alright to be jealous sometimes, right? It doesn’t make you a bad person.” Vik pulls back a little bit, but Joseph doesn’t budge. Joseph thinks he gets the hint, because Vik just goes back to cradling him.

“But it’s my own damn fault I’m so alone.” Joseph finally manages, not having the courage to look at the other. He must know, right? Mary would’ve told him, right? 

Joseph begins to wonder if Vik is going to say anything, when the other shifts a little bit. He doesn’t pull away, which Joseph is thankful for. 

“What happened, Joseph? I mean… I know some details from what Mary has told me, but I guess I just… What was going through your head when all of that stuff happened?”

Joseph finally pulls back, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy. “I’m assuming she told you that her and I were very close with the Small family.” Vik nods. “And Mary and Marilyn were inseparable. And Robert and I got along well, even if his sense of humor was a little shocking sometimes. I came to appreciate it. I came to love the Smalls.

“Marilyn’s death was very sudden, and… None of us fared well after it. Val finished school a year early and left the second she could to go stay with Marilyn’s parents who offered to pay for her schooling. Mary just… Spiraled. She drank far too much. Her and Robert both. Mary and I almost lived at Robert’s house for months because he was suddenly alone. Sometimes I think that Marilyn’s death hurt Mary just as much as it did Robert.

“Mary had shut me out by this point. Robert and her drank and I was trying to take care of both of them. At least Robert would hold a conversation from time to time. Mary just… Wouldn’t even look at me. Then her mom got sick and she had to go back home for a while and… She never called. I would, and she only answered half the time. Everything she said to me was so… Empty. She was empty. And part of me wondered if I did this to her. She was terrified of doing the whole suburban mom thing. I told her that we would still have fun and travel and that we had all the time in the world with each other. And she agreed to marry me and settle down and… I think Marilyn was this sort of lifeline for her. Like a grasp of her old life and when she died Mary probably sat down and wondered if she was ever going to be happy with a white picket-fence and two-point-five kids and all that.

“The longer she put off coming home, the more I just… Assumed she hated me. Assumed she was going to leave me. Assumed that she thought I had ruined her life by bringing her to Maple Bay. Anytime I offered to visit her she’d insist that I didn’t need to and… I thought my marriage was over, okay? I was just taking care of Robert who wasn’t handling Mary’s absence well either and… I think he was scared she wasn’t coming back just like I was. And… God, I felt just as lonely as I had my entire life up until I met Mary. It felt like my whole world had just turned upside down.

“When the affair started,” Joseph pauses, deciding to keep things a little vague. Mary probably didn’t tell Vik who the affair was with. “That person and I just… Had a very mutual sense of loneliness. Their own marriage had just ended.” He felt guilty for making Marilyn’s death sound like a divorce, but part of him knew this wasn’t his story to tell anymore. “I genuinely didn’t think Mary was coming home. And then she did, and it was rocky at first but… I was so happy to see her, and Robert was so thankful for her not disappearing and… Things seemed good again. The three of us were happy. Not as happy as we had been, but… Existing didn’t hurt nearly as much anymore. And the affair, I… I got deep in it. I loved the other person and they loved me, so it continued to happen…

“The other person was the one who told Mary, though. They told Mary and she… Said she was okay with it.”

“Wait, what?”

“I wouldn’t have believed it either.” Joseph says softly, huffing. “Neither of them mentioned it to me. So, the affair kept going and Mary kept pretending like she didn’t know and… Things were good. Mary got pregnant, Chris came along… My job here at the church was going well. The old youth minister had retired and despite being one of the younger people trying to get the job… They chose me. My life was starting to look the way I always wanted it to and… And the affair just weighed heavily on my mind. It had gone on… God, almost three years and… And I was very much in love with the other person but… I couldn’t do it anymore. I broke it off and it went very badly, and I was very unhappy and… Mary could see it and… And everything was suddenly wrong again.”

Joseph doesn’t say anything more for a long moment, so Vik takes his chance to speak. “Joseph, what you did wasn’t a good thing but… It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person, either. The fact that you feel so badly and regret those bad things just goes to show that you’re not.”

Joseph manages a weak smile, no humor or happiness in it. “Would you say that if I told you that I still think about that other person? That if given the chance, I would go back in time and I never would’ve ended things. If Mary had had a problem with it, I probably would’ve chosen them over her. I love Mary, but… This person made me feel alive and real and raw in a way I never thought I possibly could and I threw it away for church bake sales and a crumbling home-life.”

Vik doesn’t have a chance to speak before his phone buzzes again. Except this time, it’s a phone call. “You should answer it.” Joseph tells him, moving to wipe at his own eyes. A glance at the clock tells him it’s a little past eleven. 

“Hey Robert,” Vik says softly into the phone, and Joseph feels a twinge of spite. Robert is probably worrying about Vik right now. Convinced that Joseph has some sort of plan to seduce the other. He feels sick. “No, I’m fine. Huh? Uh, yeah, I’d like a ride. It’s kind of cold to be walking. Alright. Bye.” Vik hangs up, tucking his phone away. “Robert will be here in five. We should clean up.”

“I’ll worry about it tomorrow,” Joseph waves his hand, moving to stand and stretch. “It is really late, and I should head home as well.” The only thing Joseph bothers with is rinsing out the blender and the glasses. He leaves them in the break-room and comes back to his office to find Vik waiting. 

The two of them shakily make it down the stairs, both seeming to realize how much alcohol is in their systems. When the two of them step outside, they’re immediately overwhelmed with cold air. Joseph half considers offering his sweater to Vik, but quickly decides that that is a very bad idea. 

Joseph is about to start his own trek home when Robert’s headlights come down the road, turning and pulling into the church parking lot. He pulls right up in front of them, and Joseph winces against the bright light. He should leave. Quickly. Except Robert is out of the truck already and he can’t move.

The three of them stand in awkward silence for a long moment, and Joseph is acutely aware of how puffy and irritated his eyes still are. “I’m alright,” he finally says, voice a little hoarse, when he sees Robert’s unreadable gaze on him.

Robert doesn’t react to that, but his eyes are glued to Joseph. Joseph thinks of the night on Vik’s porch. He feels sick again. _What had that meant?_ Robert’s blank eyes offer no answers.

“Get in the back,” Robert finally tells him, jerking a thumb towards his truck behind him. “It’s too fuckin’ cold to walk home and I’m heading your way anyway.” 

Joseph almost questions it, but Vik and Robert are both walking back to the truck now. He follows, letting Vik push the passenger seat forward and climbing into the sad excuse of a back seat. He buckles in, eyes searching the familiar interior for a long moment. The stickers, the hula girl, the cigarette burns in the upholstery. It smells like stale tobacco and fresh pine. There’s that red stain back here, still. Joseph remembers that. He remembers the exact bottle of wine that it came from, as well. He had spent a good hour trying to get the rest of it out of the khakis he had worn that night. 

The ride home is quiet. Pink Floyd plays softly in the background and Vik is mumbling along to the words, though there’s a few second delay between the words playing and when Vik repeats them. Joseph swears he hears Robert chuckle softly.

Eventually, Robert pulls into his driveway and shuts the vehicle off. Nobody is quick to get out, so Robert lights a cigarette and takes a few puffs. Joseph hates it, and Robert knows that he hates it. 

When they finally leave the truck, Joseph is thankful. The fresh air, despite being cold, is far more pleasant than choking on smoke. He follows the other two across Robert’s lawn and into his own. Vik stops on Joseph’s sidewalk, but Robert keeps walking on towards Vik’s house.

“Night, Joseph.” Vik says quickly, giving him a little wave and then rushing to catch up to Robert.

“Goodnight.”

Joseph heads to his door, fumbling with his keys for a long moment. He gets them into the knob, and as he’s about to turn them he hears more talking. It’s soft now, Robert and Vik on Vik’s front porch. Vik’s movements mirror his own; drunken struggles with a house key.

“So… What’d you say to make blondie cry?” Robert’s voice is unreadable, passive. 

Vik hesitates for a moment, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because he doesn’t want to answer or because he doesn’t have the brain power to open a door and speak all at once. “Told him his polos weren’t cool.”

“Harsh.” And then there’s laughter as the two of them disappear into Vik’s house, door closing behind them and leaving Joseph in silence.

_You’re a bad person._

* * *

_Friday, November 10th, 2017_

  
Mary: What time do you get off work?   
Vik: Eight   
Mary: Meet me at Jim and Kim’s afterwards.   
Vik: I’ll be there   


* * *

The two stories that Vik had been told had swum incessantly around his head for the last two days. He very much welcomed the distraction of alcohol to make his brain fuzzy. Mary was, as she always is, ready for a drink. Vik had bought them both several shots, and the two of them huddled up in the warmth of their usual booth in pleasant silence.

“Let’s find somewhere a little livelier?” Mary finally offers, downing her last shot. “Maybe get a good dance or two in before we head to the marina.”

“Sounds like fun.” Vik agrees, and they wave goodbye to Neil on their way out. Mary leads them down the street to some back-alley entrance. The bouncer doesn’t bother checking their IDs on the way in, and the scent of incense and sex are thick in the air. The music has some infectious EDM beat to it and Vik finds himself bobbing his head along to it without realizing. 

Mary takes his hand as the club becomes louder and more packed, and they make their way downstairs. It’s dark, the lights above head tinted in hues of mauve and maroon. Once they’re on the dancefloor, neither of them hesitate to press close together and begin dancing. Vik quickly abandons his jacket, the body heat of the club and the sweat from the movement making it uncomfortable, and ties it around his waist. He gently places his hands on Mary’s hips, hers wound around his neck, and the two of them sway and shake their head to the beat. 

Mary snags some drinks off the tray of a bartender making his way through the crowd, and then quickly helps the two of them disappear behind some more dancers. She hands one drink off to Vik, and the two of them down them. Vik twists his face, coughing a little. Whatever that was, it was gross. Mary seems to agree.

“Come on snake, let’s rattle.” Mary yells, mouth close to Vik’s ear so he can hear. He chuckles and grasps her hand as they make their way outside. The icy air is welcome on Vik’s sweaty forehead, and Mary hums in a way that tells him she feels the same.

The two begin their way towards the marina, Vik humming along softly to what he can remember of the beat of that one song. He would never know what that song was called or who it was by, but that’s okay. It’ll haunt his brain for the rest of the night, and that’s all he can ask for.

“That place was fun.”

Mary nods, letting out a playful snort. “If you consider people having questionable sex on the dancefloor and lighting that could kill an epileptic fun, then yeah.” She’s grinning, though. Their hands are still intertwined by the time they make it to the docks.

The St. Peter is beautiful as always, and untouched. Mary says that Joseph hasn’t gone out sailing in a bit because of the cold weather. The two board the ship, assaulted by the cold wind blowing over the water. Mary motions Vik to follow her inside the cabin, where she flicks a light on and the two descend down a small flight of stairs. It’s… A bedroom, from the looks of it. A little messy, but still ritzy. 

The lounge is large and spacious, and pretty modern-looking for an older yacht. Leather couches, wood paneling… It looks a little lived in, what with laundry on the floor and such, but he wasn’t going to judge. His bedroom floor had consisted entirely of laundry until Mary recently forced him to do all of it. “This is gorgeous.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.” Mary fetches some wine glasses and a bottle of wine from a drawer in an old, sturdy cabinet. She pours both glasses to the brim, before handing one to Vik. “This one is called ‘Twilight Rouge’. Fancy, huh?”

“Mary, any wine I drink on a yacht instantly becomes fancy wine. It could be a five-dollar bottle and it would be fancy, merely because it is Yacht Wine.” Vik laughs a little, wandering around the lounge and taking things in. The huge California King took up a large portion of the room, and there’s wine glasses everywhere. There’s a little ship in a bottle, too. Vik imagines Joseph with some tweezers trying to put the darn thing together. Who in their right mind decided that that was a reasonable hobby? He would probably sneeze and muck the whole thing up if he dried it.

His attention finally turns to a shelf on the wall. He approaches it, eyes scanning the books as he sips at his wine glass. Quite a few bibles. Some old vet magazines. And oh? Well damn, Joseph. That series of books is probably not considered Christian. He chuckles, eyes grazing over knickknacks and pausing at a few framed photos. 

Mary and Joseph’s wedding day. Mary looked stunning in her dress, all dolled up with curls and pearls and ruffles. The beauty doesn’t touch her eyes, though. Joseph is also wearing the nerdiest pair of grandpa glasses in his suit and Vik has to wonder how the guy thought that was a good plan.

Another photo is of Mary and Joseph on this very yacht. Their clothes scream late nineties, early two-thousands. Mary looks a little annoyed in the photo, but in a way that Vik had come to realize was just her resting face. She didn’t seem to be aware that the photo was being taken, either. Who had taken it? Robert or Marilyn, maybe?

Another photo of Joseph and his kids with a go-cart. Chris looks to be only five or six in this, and the twins are just toddlers. Chris is smiling shyly, and his eyes won’t meet the camera. Joseph looks so happy there with his kids. He thinks of the other night, when Joseph said he’d go back and trade it all. Could he really mean that? But what about his kids?

The last photo on the shelf surprises Vik in the best way possible. It’s old. The date in the corner is faded, but Vik can tell it’s from 2008. It appears to be around Christmas time, and all the dads on the cul-de-sac are in it. There’s only one man he doesn’t recognize at the end of the row, but his arm is around Hugo. Probably his ex? He takes in everyone’s faces, noting how much someone could change in nine years.

Robert is smiling in the photo, Vik quickly notices. His hair is all one solid shade; no streaks of grey to give away his age. There’s less lines in his face, and there’s a beautiful little glint in his eyes. It’s a look that Vik hopes to see in person someday. He examines it for a long moment, noting that Robert is wearing a sweater. Which isn’t abnormal, considering the guys closet is eighty percent long-sleeved shirts, but it’s such a bright color. A pretty, pale baby blue. 

_Wait._

“I know that sweater,” Vik mouths, voice too quiet for Mary to pick up from across the room. She’s on her second glass and doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. 

“ _I certainly cannot blame you for stealing his clothes. He has a knack for picking out things that are just too comfy to pass up._ ” The words echo in Vik’s head, the mental image of Joseph reaching up to adjust the sleeves of that very sweater he wore around his neck.

“ _About a year after she died, things were going bad. I had been ignoring Robert, and Joseph and I weren’t getting along. He had put his energy is trying to help Robert, who definitely needed it more than I did._ ” Mary had said, eyes sad, as she took two shots, one after another.

“ _…Did you know the person Joseph was cheating on you with? I know that maybe that’s none of my business, but… I just get the feeling it was someone you trusted._ ” Vik had said to Mary, who admitted that she did know the other person. Then, just like that, she had immediately shut down the conversation.

“ _Joseph knows that Robert and I would never have a thing. He’s known Robert too long._ ” Mary, dressed as Damien the night of the Halloween party, said. Joseph would never believe that Robert and Mary were having an affair. He knew Robert too well. 

“ _Nah. Believe it or not, I have a weird fetish for people wearing my clothes._ ” Robert had said in his basement, all smiles. Joseph still wears that sweater around his neck.

“ _Joseph likes his wine._ ” Robert had said, fumbling with the erotic novel Vik had plucked off the shelf, thinking it was Mary’s. Robert knew it wasn’t Mary’s. 

“ _When the fuck did he kiss Vik?_ ” Robert’s face had been genuinely surprised, but there had been something more there. Something Vik didn’t understand. Mary had continued to pry, despite everything. Like she wanted Robert to hear this.

“ _I was just taking care of Robert who wasn’t handling Mary’s absence well either and… I think he was scared she wasn’t coming back just like I was._ ” They were both alone.

“ _That person and I just… Had a very mutual sense of loneliness. Their own marriage had just ended._ ” Marilyn had just died.

“ _The other person was the one who told Mary, though. They told Mary and she… Said she was okay with it._ ” Mary trusted Robert. 

“ _I love Mary, but… This person made me feel alive and real and raw in a way I never thought I possibly could and I threw it away for church bake sales and a crumbling home-life._ ” Vik know how that felt. The way Robert could make everything seem like it had a purpose. Like, even if life didn’t have meaning, that was okay, because the only thing that matters is the moment they’re living in now.

Vik is quiet for a long moment, swishing his half-empty glass of wine around. Finally, he turns and looks at his friend. “Mary?”

She glances up from her wine, eyes bored as they often were. Her brows quirk up in a silent reply to his question.

“…Joseph’s affair was with Robert, wasn’t it?”

Mary’s face twists in a way that it seldom does. Vik can see fear in her eyes. “Look—”

“And Robert told you and you told him it was okay.”

“I did.”

“And Joseph ended it anyway.”

“He did.”

Vik moves to sit on the bed, staring at his glass in silence. This was a lot to process. 

“Don’t be mad at him,” Mary says, and there’s something pleading in her voice. Something Vik hasn’t heard before. “There’s a lot of shit that has gone on between the three of us and a lot of it is ugly but. Dammit, Vik. This shit is not Robert’s fault.”

“It’s not all Joseph’s, either!” Vik reaches up to yank at his hair a bit, wine glass abandoned on the nightstand. “All of this was fucked up, Mary. It was, and what Joseph did was bad but… What Robert did was, too! And… Both of you just blame Joseph. I don’t understand.”

Mary’s mouth is a firm line, and her eyes have gone hard. She’s just staring at Vik now, the two of them almost unblinking. “Because we were all happy. We were all happy until Joey decided that it wasn’t perfect enough for him. It wasn’t the clean-cut, picture-perfect slice of life that he forced me into and he had to go and ruin it. All of it. Robert is the only piece of Marilyn I have left and Joseph fucked him over. So yes, I _blame_ him, Vik.” There’s tears in her eyes now, thick and hot, streaking her eyeliner down her cheeks. 

Vik takes a long, shaky breath, before he gets up and comes over to sit down next to Mary on the couch. He wraps his arms around her tightly, and she doesn’t refuse the comfort.

“You’re the best fucking thing that’s happened to Robert in a long time,” she manages, voice so small. Seeing Mary like this, so worn and broken, it’s scary. “Please don’t let this fuck it up.”

“This doesn’t change the way I feel about him,” Vik softly reassures Mary. It doesn’t. Everything makes a lot more sense from Vik’s perspective. Words from earlier in the week rang in his brain, though, leaving a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

“ _Would you say that if I told you that I still think about that other person?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh fuck guys here we goooo we are getting into the angsty meat of this and im PUMPED.
> 
> fridays chapter is gonna be a blast from the past.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: a nice little blast from the past that paints the backstory for robert, joseph, and mary. it also contains: joseph using the phrase "i shit you not", a stick-n-poke kit, robert defending white zinfandel, a tiny lucien, robert singing, and some drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go! the blast from the past chapter. a nice little slice of past roseph to kinda paint a clearer picture of how their relationship went down
> 
> also just a little warning that robert uses the racial slur g*psy to refer to a fictional romani woman in this chapter. hes not exactly the most PC person but i wanted to make it clear i dont like that word and dont think it should be used in casual conversation but robert isnt me and was raised a lot differently so yeah. just a quick heads up

_Friday, December 18th, 2009_

“Neil, another round.” Robert signals from the end of the bar. Neil is quick to deliver two more cocktail glasses full of Macallan, served neat. Joseph takes his, sipping on it eagerly and savoring the smoky flavor and sighing. 

“So, as I was saying,” Joseph continues, turning to give Robert as even a look as he can manage several glasses deep. “I had a bunch of kids, teens mostly, just lazing around the camp all week. Miserable, it seemed. I don’t get why some of them even _went_! The field trip was entirely optional.” He shakes his head, wondering what motivated some of these youths. “Anyway, it’s the middle of the night and I decide to do a quick sweep of the cabins. Just check in on the kids, make sure everything is kosher.”

“Obviously. All camp activities gotta pass Jewish law.” Robert adds, snorting and taking a long swig of his Scotch. It burns down his throat, adding to the settling warmth growing in his stomach.

“Exactly. Anyway, I manage to find a bunch of teens with, I shit you not, a stick-n-poke kit. Giving each other tattoos. In the middle of my good, Christian camping trip. I had to confiscate all of the supplies, obviously. And then I had to explain to Mrs. Kavinsky why her son now had a poorly draw penis on his back.”

Robert bellows with laughter, shaking his head and grinning wide and toothy. “Imagine going home with someone and trying to fucking explain the dick tattooed on your back. Holy shit.” 

Joseph laughs as well, resting his face on his palm, fingers folding up over his chin. “It would make for a hell of a story. That’s for sure.”

The two of them chatter away, finishing off their drinks and ordering another round. The bar activity continues around them, but neither of them pay much mind to the other patrons. Their eyes barely leave one another for most of the night. 

The air outside is crisp, carrying a wave of cold down their throats and into their lungs. Joseph watches Robert retrieve a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one. His face twists a little, and Robert rolls his eyes. 

“It smells _awful_ ,” Joseph points out.

“That’s why I waited until we were outside with a breeze.”

“It makes your teeth yellow.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz the coffee and whiskey haven’t done that already.”

“Each cigarette takes eleven minutes off of your life.”

“ _Good_ ,” Robert retorts, taking a long puff and blowing it out away from Joseph as they walk. “You better take advantage of this moment, Joey. I’ve smoked a lot of these things in my life and I could quite literally drop dead at any given second.”

“You are ridiculous.” Joseph groans a bit, reaching up and threading a hand through his tousled hair. 

“Ridiculous? Joseph, I’m offended.” Robert shakes his hand, placing his free hand over his heart. “I am treating you the valuable lesson of appreciation. Appreciate what you have while it doesn’t have lung cancer.”

“I amend my last statement. You aren’t ridiculous. You’re _awful_ ,” Joseph gives Robert a playful shove, earning a chuckle from the taller male. He uses his hip to bump Joseph back, who ends up laughing despite himself. 

Robert stubs his cigarette out in a public trash bin as the two of them walk, and after a quick glance around, drapes an arm over Joseph’s shoulders. The other wounds one around his waist, and the two of them wander along like that in the dead of the night until they make their way to the marina.

Both of them drop their arms as they approach the entrance, and Joseph gives a little wave to Gabriel, one of the marina guards. Joseph was sure that Gabriel knew what Robert and he were doing, but he certainly wasn’t giving the man any ammunition to gossip with later.

“Bet his wife gets a mouthful when he gets home,” Robert jokes as the two of them start down the docks. “Honey, that preacher and his leather-clad boy-toy are at it again!”

Joseph laughs at the little voice Robert put on to imitate Gabriel. “That’s probably exactly what happens. Except Gabriel has mentioned he speaks Spanish at home. So, that, but in Spanish.”

“Cariño, ese predicador y su juguete de cuero, están de nuevo!” Robert repeats, using the same voice to imitate Gabriel yet again.

Joseph hums softly, appreciating the way Robert’s Rs roll when he speaks the other language. It’s almost like the man is purring, and it makes Joseph melt a little. 

The two of them approach the St. Peter in silence, fingers intertwined. The cool breeze has become a chilly wind above the waves, and they both hurry up onto the deck and down into the warmth of the cabin. Joseph doesn’t bother with the lights, Robert pulling him right along to the bed. 

They both collapse onto the large bed, half-heartedly kicking shoes off and shucking off jackets. There’s no real heat in the moment, a mix of warm alcohol and exhaustion fogging their minds. There’s an attempt, the two of them latching together and kissing. But it doesn’t last long, sleep threatening to swallow Joseph first. Robert groans a little as the other begins to drift off mid-kiss, and Joseph sleepily laughs.

“Later.”

“Fine.” Robert huffs, moving to press his face against the other’s shoulder. The two of them drift off like that, catching a few precious hours of sleep.

When Joseph wakes up, it’s to a stream of orange light caressing the empty pillow next to him. He blinks away sleep, making a face at the uncomfortable way his belt and pants had twisted in his slumber. He wiggles a bit, only to stop when he feels weight shift the mattress behind him. Before he can turn, Robert’s collapsing against him and shoving his prickly face against Joseph’s neck. He can’t stifle a giggle at the way the stubble tickles his skin, and Robert wiggles his face just a bit to elicit more laughter from the other.

“What time is it?” Joseph finally manages once the two have settled down, and Robert sleepily shrugs. 

“Dunno. What time do you have to be home?”

“I told Mary that I’d be home today. Probably early afternoon.”

“Mmm,” Robert hums, making a face as he rests against Joseph. Joseph hates that look. That sad sense of guilt that haunts Robert’s features anytime Mary is brought up. 

“Hey,” Joseph says, turning his body around completely and fingers cupping Robert’s cheeks. “Look, I don’t like this either but… I love you. And I know that doesn’t make all of this totally okay but… We’re all so happy. Mary’s been better since she got home and I’m happy and you’re happy. This isn’t a bad thing, Robert.”

Robert looks a little skeptical, but he doesn’t want to argue. He wants to accept Joseph’s words as truth. He wants this to be a good thing. “I love you, too.” Robert manages after a moment, sighing and resting their noses together. The three of them were a lot happier than they had been since Marilyn had passed, and Robert wasn’t about to turn away from the sense of euphoria he experiences when around Joseph. The adrenaline of sneaking around like teenagers, of sneaking kisses and touches when no one is looking. 

Things go quiet for a long moment before Joseph sits up. He stretches his arms above his head and makes a face for a moment. “Robert?”

“Hm?”

Joseph crawls out of bed, approaching the bags from his camping trip that he had ditched the day before in his yacht cabin. “I still have that stick-n-poke kit.”

Robert pauses for a moment, brows raising. Finally, he sits up as well, giving the other a half-hearted glare from across the room. “Joseph Christiansen, I am not letting you tattoo a dick on my back.”

Joseph laughs as he retrieves the Ziploc bag of supplies from his case. He comes back over to the bed, sitting down. “Way to stomp all over a guy’s dreams, Robert.” He tsks, shaking his head and feigning disappointment. It doesn’t last long, a grin overtaking his features. “You have a steady hand.”

“I do, yeah.”

“As do I.”

“Get on with it, Joey. The suspense is killing me,” Robert drones sarcastically, eyeing the bag of supplies between them on the bed.

“I’ll hand-poke you if you hand-poke me?” Joseph finally offers, flashing a little grin. He’s always wanted a tattoo, but it never fit in well with the church image. Still, he could get something docile and easy to hide. 

“That is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Robert scoffs, much to Joseph’s disappointment. Then he starts to get up. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

They move to the couch, and Joseph starts to set the stuff out on the coffee table. At least the kids had alcohol swabs and some towels to clean up with. They weren’t total idiots. Joseph warily eyes the needle tied and taped around the eraser end of an unsharpened pencil. He sets it aside, along with a few ink pens and a little bottle of ink. He opens the ink and pours a little into a tiny plastic thimble. 

Robert examines the supplies in front of them, grinning a little bit. “A’ight. I get it. Why the kids think this shit is cool. Because what the hell is more metal than repeatedly stabbing your friend in the dead of night just to leave them with some sort of cool marking?”

“I guess I can see the appeal,” Joseph chuckles, moving to remove his shirt. “Though I very much doubt Jimmy Kavinsky was very pleased with his ‘cool marking’.”

“He’s a teenage boy. He probably thinks it is the funniest shit ever.” Robert informs him, taking in an eyeful of Joseph’s chest for a moment. “Where do you want it?”

“My bicep,” Joseph says, moving to run his hand over the area in question. “Nothing that will get me kicked out of the church, please.”

“So… I’m not allowed to draw a detailed depiction of my asshole?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Damn,” Robert huffs. He moves to grab one of the pens and begins drawing. Joseph watches him, enjoying the way Robert’s brows scrunch together whenever he focuses. It’s the same expression he wears when he’s whittling, and Joseph finds it incredibly charming. 

After a few minutes, Robert moves to put the ink pen aside. “Alright, I think that’s pretty solid and non-threatening. Wanna look before I embed it into your skin for the rest of forever?”

“Nope,” Joseph answers, moving to meet the other’s eyes. “I trust you.” 

Robert falters for a moment, a little taken aback by the emotion in Joseph’s words. He finally just gives a nod, moving to unwrap an alcohol wipe. He cleans off the needle as well as the area on Joseph’s arm. He picks up the tiny ink well, and dips the needle head into it. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Robert gives a little nod and then gets to work. He’s a little thrown off by the sound, needle puncturing the skin over and over again. It’s unsettling, but quickly becomes background noise as Robert focuses. He quickly sets the little well aside, opting to hold the towel and wiping away excess ink as he worked. Joseph flinched a little at the beginning, but the pain seems to dull the longer Robert works. After a good half an hour of intense concentration, Robert finally pulls back and wipes it clean. He sets the needle aside, and grins. “Oh yeah, that looks fucking great.”

“Are you done?” Robert nods and Joseph quickly gets up to head towards the bathroom. Robert follows along, watching the other eye the well-drawn anchor resting on his bicep. “Robert, wow. That looks professional.”

“My asshole is hidden in there, somewhere. I swear by it.” Robert jokes, coming over and retrieving a clean towel. He rinses it down with some cool water and gently wipes at the tender skin of Joseph’s arm. Then he pats it dry with the other end of the towel. “Think you’re supposed to bandage it up for a little bit?”

The two retrieve the first-aid kit from the cabinet and sit back down. Robert spreads a little Neosporin over the area to keep it clean and then places down a layer of gauze before wrapping it in bandages. 

“So, where do you want yours?” Joseph finally inquires, looking to Robert expectantly. Joseph wasn’t an artist, so he was a little nervous. What would Robert like? 

“Up to you,” Robert finally says, shrugging. “If we’re pulling the trust card, do as you please. Just don’t touch my face.”

Joseph laughs, shaking his head. “Robert, I definitely don’t want to tattoo your face.” He reassures him, just taking in the other man for a long moment. What would be a good area? And what should he give Robert? After a moment of contemplation, an idea strikes him. “Left hand. Hand it over.”

“Was that a pun?” Robert makes a face, but rolls up the sleeve of his sweater and presents his left hand to Joseph. He tilts his head back against the couch cushions and closes his eyes so he can be surprised when it’s finished.

“Unintentional, but yes.” Joseph chuckles, grabbing a pen and staring at Robert’s hand for a long moment. He mused over shapes in his head, starting with a circle. Then adding some spikes wavily growing from it. Then a little four-pointed star in the middle. It looked mysterious and bizarre. Like a sigil from a witch or some sort of demon-summoning ritual. 

He repeats Robert’s steps from earlier, cleaning the needle and Robert’s hand before getting to work. Robert winces as the first prick of the needle, and Joseph apologizes softly. He did pick an area with a lot of bones, and that probably wasn’t too pleasant on Robert’s end. 

The tattoo is largely on the ‘V’ shaped area between Robert’s thumb and index finger, so Joseph twists his hand a little as he works. He smears away leftover ink and takes extra time to even out the edges and make sure none of them look too jagged or unclean. It takes a while, but soon enough, Joseph is done. He takes another alcohol wipe, cleaning the skin thoroughly. This earns a little flinch from Robert at the sting, and without thinking about it, Joseph leans in to press a soft kiss to the spot. “It’s done.”

Robert finally tilts his head forward, opening his eyes and pausing to look at it. He tilts his hand at a few different angles, face unreadable. “What is it supposed to be? The sun?”

“It’s complete and utter bullshit.” Joseph says after a moment, shrugging. “But, imagine what kind of stories you’ll be able to tell because of it.”

Robert glances up at him, unable to not feel a little fuzzy inside over Joseph’s consideration. A bullshit tattoo so he can spout more bullshit. “Went backpacking through Europe in my youth and came across some gypsy lady. I was low on cash, so I nabbed some artifact from her and she found out. Cursed me right on the spot. Thought it was complete bullshit, but I woke up the next morning to my hand burning like it was on fire. This mark’s been there ever since, and my life has been a living hell.”

“Sounds about right.”

* * *

_Friday, January 22nd, 2010_

The drawl of soft-spoken Italian in the background overwhelms him with a sense of nostalgia. A longing for home that had been rearing its ugly head quite often over the last few years. He tips back the bottle of wine once again, the sweet tang of fruit on his tongue. Then the bottle is empty, and he sets it aside with a huff and the consideration that he should’ve bought two. 

He rolls over on the couch, eyes finally finding the television. Black and white actors argue on screen, their outfits dated but their performances ageless. This is one of Robert’s favorites. He can recite all the lines from heart. 

The knock on the front door isn’t expected, and Robert’s eyes dart to the clock on his DVD player. It’s noon. He hasn’t slept yet. With a heaving sigh, he hefts himself up and to the front door. Much to his surprise, Mary is on the other side. A mix of panic and guilt threaten to swallow Robert whole, but he chokes down the emotions. He cocks a brow to ask what she wants.

“Step aside, Small.” She rolls her eyes, pushing right past him into the living room. “It smells like an ashtray in here,” she mutters, nose crinkling up a little. 

“Never bothered you before.”

“Didn’t notice before.” Mary adds, moving to open a window before taking a seat. Her makeup isn’t done, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Robert isn’t sure what’s wrong, but he’s worried. He takes a seat across from her, leaning forward on his knees and giving her an even look. She meets his eyes, mouth pressing into a flat line.

“I need a favor.”

“Shoot.”

Mary hesitates for a moment, eyes dropping and silently analyzing the tattoo on Robert’s hand. It was healing nicely. Her eyes linger for a longer moment, before she settles back into the cushions and meets his gaze. “I need you to find the tramp my husband is seeing behind my back.”

Robert manages to hold his even expression, but something cracks inside. He can no longer find his voice. It’s choked down in his throat, a growing lump threatening to cut off his air supply. Words do not come. 

“Maybe I’m being paranoid, but… I don’t think I am.” Mary finally says, shaking her head. “He keeps lying about where he’s been or going. Staying out too late. He’ll swear he stayed late at the church but all I can smell is alcohol on his breath and… Sometimes he has marks on him. Marks that I sure as hell didn’t leave on him.” She props her feet up on the coffee table, eyes finally making their way upwards and back to Robert’s face. “Part of me thinks maybe I should just let it happen. He seems happy. But…” She stops, expression twisting. 

Robert cannot stand being under her gaze any longer. He stands up, quick to walk around to the bar and pour himself a full glass of warm whiskey. He tops off a glass of wine and comes back to the table, sliding it towards her. “This conversation deserves a drink.”

“Fuck yeah it does,” Mary responds, but doesn’t reach for the glass. She just sits there, staring at it. “Robert. I can’t drink the wine.”

“White zinfandel is delicious and I don’t understand what you’ve got against it,” Robert does his best to feign humor, taking a long gulp of his own drink.

“It’s a weak wine for pansies. But, that’s not why I can’t drink it.”

Robert doesn’t stop his absurdly long sip, a brow arching from behind his glass.

“I’m pregnant.”

Robert chokes, whiskey burning his throat and spilling down his chin as he begins coughing. He raises his sleeve, wiping at his mouth and trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts swirling around his brain. “Is it Joseph’s?”

Mary scoffs, rolling her eyes. “No, definitely not my husband’s. Immaculate conception. Jesus wanted to come back to Earth via my womb.” She shakes her head, making a face. “Normally I would let Joseph slut it up and drink away my problems and pretend everything is fine and peachy, but I’m sober. And I am stuck being sober for the next few months. So, I have to settle for punching the skank in the face, locking my husband in a chastity belt, and trying to salvage whatever is left of my life so this child doesn’t end up a complete and total fuck-up.”

Joseph and Mary were going to have a child. Because they’re married. They’re married and they did things right and they were going to be happy. Robert’s eyes go to the floor, shoulders falling limp in defeat. He couldn’t fucking do this anymore.

“It’s me.”

“What?”

“I’m the tramp your husband is stepping out on you with.” Robert’s voice is so small he isn’t sure if Mary can even hear him. A quick glance upwards tells him she can, a series of emotions crossing her face at an unimaginable rate. Humor, confusion, disappointment, anger, betrayal. Robert wants to throw up and continue doing so until he drops dead.

“This isn’t a joke, is it?” Mary finally manages, painted finger nails knotting in her slacks. “For how long? When did it start?”

“…After you left for your parents.”

“ _Are you serious?_ ” Mary’s voice goes hollow, jaw tight with mixed feelings. “A year and a half… You two have just been butt buddies behind my back this whole time like it wasn’t going to bite you both in the ass? I mean, really?” She’s standing now, but she doesn’t make a move to leave. She just stands there, limbs rigid, towering over Robert.

Robert’s eyes feel wet when he looks up, and something about that seems to catch Mary off guard. “Don’t blame him, okay. I’m a lonely piece of shit and he was so nice to me and, fuck.” His voice cracks, and he feels every ounce of dignity leave him. He didn’t deserve any of it, anyway. He was worthless and awful, just as he always had been. “I’ve always taken everything, Mary. It’s who I am. Fuck me. Like, if I can’t have a happy marriage, my brain just says ‘well neither can anyone else’. I kept… Inviting him over and talking to him and things happened and… And I thought I could just let myself be happy and pretend that this wasn’t going to fuck everything up and… And I fucking love him, Mary. I’m an awful piece of shit who fell in love with my best friend’s husband because if I’m not fucking someone over then I’m drinking myself to death in this empty house.”

Robert’s words are garbled between sobs and voice cracks, and it’s the hardest he’s cried since Marilyn died. He’s completely unaware of how hard he’s shaking, pulse pounding deafeningly loud in his ears. He’s only snapped out of it when he sees Mary sit back down, face tired. Neither of them talk for a long moment.

“You really love him?”

Robert just gives a little not, head hanging in shame. All the guilt he’d been shouldering over the entirety of the affair sunk into his chest, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. He’d go back to the bar and finish off a bottle if he felt capable of moving. His limbs felt as if they were full of drying concrete, heavy and stiff where they rested. 

“Damn. Well, I guess that’s better than just fucking him for shits and giggles.” Mary leans forward on her knees, palming at her eyes as if doing so could remove the perpetual sense of exhaustion that clouded her being. “Alright. Fine. Whatever.”

Robert has to funnel all of his available energy into the act of raising his head, eyes shakily meeting Mary’s. He looks hellish, eyes swollen and red, cheeks bright and wet with cold tears. 

“Look,” Mary starts, letting out a long-blown sigh. “I’m not exactly a conventional person. And Lord knows that I am not morally sound. Guess what I’m saying is, that if I had to share my husband with anyone, I’d want it to be you instead of anyone else. I’m still mad, but… Shit, Robert, you’ve been happier these last few months than you’ve been in a while. And somehow… I’ve been happier. Joey, too. I guess what I’m saying is… You can buttfuck my husband to keep morale up around here.”

Robert sits there for a long moment, exhausted and stunned and speechless. Finally, after what feels like an insurmountable amount of time, he starts laughing. Everything Mary just said was so absurd and so in character that he can’t help but lose it. Mary chimes in finally, laughing as well, hard enough to spring tears up in her eyes. 

Once the laughs die down, Robert pushes himself up and over to the bar to refill his glass. He debates for a long moment, before taking a long swig and looking to Mary. “So, about me buttfucking your husband?” Mary looks over, brows arching in curiosity. “It’s actually the other way around.”

Mary sits there, face blank. Then suddenly she’s smirking, a cackle leaving her. “Holy shit. Robert Small is a bottom-bitch.”

* * *

_Saturday, March 6th, 2010_

It was a simple, repetitive motion. Move the wooden spoon in circles around the bowl, scrape the sides, and eliminate clumps. It wasn’t the first time Robert Small had ever made a batch of brownies, but it certainly had been a while. 

Hands slip onto his waist from behind, wounding around his midsection and squeezing. Joseph, on his tippy toes, rests his chin against the other’s shoulder. “They look good.”

“Well, that’s thanks to Betty Crocker and not me,” Robert snorts, tapping the spoon off before setting it aside on top of the empty batter box. “I say we add chocolate chips, though.”

“Absolutely,” Joseph nods, grinning wide. “Chocolate chips always make brownies better.” He lets go of Robert, moving to step around him to retrieve a bag of chocolate morsels. He sets them aside, smirking a bit. “We should taste-test first, though.” Reaching forward, Joseph dipped two fingers into the batter. Instead of tasting it, he eagerly pressed the tips of his coated fingers against Robert’s lips. 

Robert knew this game. Robert _loved_ this game. He eagerly spreads his lips, leaning in to drag the flat of his tongue up the underside of Joseph’s fingers. The batter is sweet and chocolatey. Kudos to Betty Crocker, of course. Robert reaches up, his hand grasping Joseph’s wrist tightly as he continued to clean the other. His tongue slipped between the two digits, never breaking eye contact with Joseph. Joseph’s fingers curl, the tips of his nails lightly digging into the flesh of Robert’s tongue. He whimpers, not from the pain, but from how incredibly fucking _hot_ it was when Joseph did that. Joseph’s fingers push deeper towards the entrance of Robert’s throat, nearly triggering the other’s gag reflex. Robert resists the urge to cough, eyes lidded, slack under Joseph’s hold. Joseph grins for a long moment before pulling his fingers back completely, eventually breaking the line of saliva still connecting them to Robert’s mouth. 

“So,” Joseph says, moving to wipe his fingers on the hip of Robert’s jeans. “Chocolate chips?” Robert gives a breathless nod, and Joseph turns to cut the bag open and pour some morsels into the batter. A few quick folds with the spoon result in finished batter, and Joseph begins pouring it into a baking tray. 

“Boys!” Mary calls, her footfalls soft as she approaches the kitchen from the hall. “Stop sucking each other off, would ya? We’re going to be late for the bake-sale.” Mary was only around four months pregnant. Some people wouldn’t even notice if they had never met her, before. Her belly had begun sticking out just a teeny bit, but it was mostly hidden with clothes. “Are you putting those brownies in?” She groans, shaking her head. “Fuck, fine, whatever. I’ll get Dames to drive me and y’all can be late.” She rolls her eyes, moving to step back into the hall. “You two can resume sucking each other off now!” 

“She’s going to be a wonderful mother,” Robert chuckles a bit, shaking his head. “Pretty sure your kid’s first word is going to be ‘fuck’.”

“Lord, I hope not.” Joseph actually draws a cross over his chest with his fingers, shaking his head all the while. “I don’t doubt her parenting skills. I do, however, worry about what was passed to her during her upbringing. Her parents are plenty nice, but… Eccentric.”

“I was raised by an Italian gangster and an illegal Mexican immigrant,” Robert reminds him, snorting. 

“You’re right. Mary could be worse.” Joseph snarks, earning a half-hearted glare from Robert. “I guess we’ll just figure it out as we go? I mean, I’ve read books and stuff but… It’s going to be really different actually raising a kid. I’m pretty excited, though. How’s the crib coming along?”

“It’s almost done,” Robert says with a shrug. “Finished your boat-bookshelf, though. I can help bring it over tomorrow, if you want.”

“Yeah, sounds good. I have paint for it in my garage.” 

The two went quiet for a few minutes, comfortable in the silence. Joseph tidied up some dishes and Robert began trailing his finger along the inside of the batter bowl. Might as well get whatever leftovers out he could, popping his fingertip into his mouth and humming at the sweetness. Mary’s words from earlier come to mind; Robert’s face fills with a sly smirk. “Joey, get over here.”

Joseph arches a brow, but rinses the soap from his hands and rubs them dry in a tea towel. “Hmm?” He hums, making his way around the kitchen island to where Robert was. Robert grips his sides gently, shoving him back until the top of his ass bumped into the counter rim. “What are you—”

Robert slides down to his knees in front of the other, fingers making quick work of his belt and zipper. “Mary told us to resume sucking each other off, didn’t she?

“She didn’t actually mean…” Joseph’s voice trails off as he watches Robert work, eyes glancing towards the kitchen entrance. “She’s still home.”

“You better keep quiet, then.” Robert teases, pulling Joseph loose from his boxers. Mary knew about them, but Joseph didn’t know that. Robert pauses for a moment, before standing up and leaning over the counter.

“What are you doing?” Joseph inquires, feeling a little nervous with his dick hanging out in the kitchen when his wife was probably in the next room over. When Robert kneels back down, he smears a mess of leftover (and _cold_ ) brownie batter over the topside of Joseph’s cock. “Jesus,” he hisses, silently apologizing for taking the Lord’s name in vain. “Robert, I’m going to be sticky.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Robert says with a grin, fingers wrapping tightly around the base. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and clean.” And with that, Robert leaned forward to begin working Joseph over in his mouth. The other’s head tilts back, mouth open towards the ceiling in a silent moan. Robert does everything he can imagine, desperately trying to make the blond slip up and make some noise. Joseph’s good, though. Nice and quiet with his fingers yanking roughly at Robert’s hair. Robert softly moans around the cock in his mouth, Joseph sighing at the pleasant vibration.

Joseph’s hands find either side of Robert’s scalp, gripping tight and taking control of the movement. Robert lets him, always excited over the idea of Joseph using him for his own pleasure. Robert’s eyes stray just for a moment, dashing towards something he saw in his peripheral. _Oh_ , the only thought he can manage as he watches Mary mostly hidden behind the kitchen archway, watching them. Her eyes meet Robert’s for a moment, and she just grins.

Robert is completely unsure how to process just how much hotter the entire scenario had just become. Being face-fucked by the preacher in his kitchen while his pregnant wife secretly watched. He was going to hell. He was going to hell and he was going to take Betty Crocker with him, dammit.

* * *

_Thursday, July 8th, 2010_

The gentle stroke of a brush, mint green against textured wood. There was something infinitely soothing about the actions involved in painting. Robert knelt into a mess of newspaper protecting the floor, splatters of soft green dotting his faded Levi’s. 

There was a soft knock behind him, but Robert didn’t turn away from his work. “Damn, Small,” Mary mutters, making her way over. She was round around the middle, obviously pregnant but not quite enough to be considered huge. “You could be a fucking carpenter or something. Maybe a fancy-ass furniture salesman.”

“Pfft, yeah right.” Robert mutters as he turns the crib to begin working on another portion of it. “You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, right? Doesn’t really work when people pay me and expect me to make whatever the fuck _they_ want.”

Mary pulls up a chair, so she can sit and watch Robert work. “Did you want to make that bookshelf? Because that thing is godawful. I mean, Robert, do you hate me? How many carvings of anchors are you going to force me to find wall space for?”

“As many as he wants.” Robert gives a shrug, smiling softly as he continues painting. Robert would carve nothing but anchors for the rest of his life if Joseph wanted more of them. “That bookshelf was a gift, okay. He mentioned something like it once, and I spent a goddamn month trying to find someone who’d sell me an old wooden boat that size. Had to strip and sand the damn thing down until my fingers bled.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“Okay, I didn’t bleed. Fingers were sore as fuck by the time I was done, though.” Robert snorts, finally setting his paintbrush aside and lifting the bottom half of his t-shirt up to wipe at the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

Mary gives a nod at that, going quiet for a long moment. She watches Robert paint, noting the way his brows scrunch up in concentration. “Went to the doctor today.” Robert lets out a soft sound, a way of letting her know he’s listening. “It’s a boy.”

Robert pauses, turning to look at her. “Disappointed?”

Mary rolls her eyes. “No. Yes. I don’t know. Guess I really wanted a girl.” Mary makes a face, but finally shrugs. “I guess this probably won’t be the only kid Joey and I have, so I still have a chance.”

“I was scared shitless when I was told I was having a girl,” Robert admits. “I mean, I was nineteen so all I knew about girls was that they made my dick hard.” He snorts, and then his face twists. “Then I realized that she’d have to deal with guys like me someday, and that’s what scared the shit out of me.”

“Guess you’re right,” Mary sighs, shaking her head. “Boys have it easier. They aren’t raised in a world that’s actively working against them.”

“Pregnant Mary gets deep into gender politics, more at eight. But, before that, here’s this video of a cute panda.” Robert puts on his best television announcer voice, and Mary laughs.

“Oh, fuck off Robert.”

* * *

_Wednesday, September 1st, 2010_

“Where the _fuck_ are they?” Mary hisses, gripping Damien’s arm tighter than she means to. She takes a couple quick breaths, the nurse next to her trying to keep her nerves calm. It was not working. 

“I have left them three messages,” Damien lets out a dejected sigh, staring at his phone. He dials Joseph again, placing the phone to his ear. Voicemail once again. “Where would they be at this time of night, Mary? Why would Joseph not be at home?”

“He’s probably on his stupid fucking boat,” Mary hisses, shoving away the hand of the nurse trying to hold hers. “Look, lady, not trying to be rude or anything, but you’re not helping. Go away.” The nurse makes a face, but doesn’t argue and leaves.

“I’m here,” in comes Hugo, hair slightly disgruntled and still in his pajamas. “Hello Mary. I do hope the whole… Baby having process goes well?” Hugo was not awake enough for this.

“Hugo, thank you for coming.” Damien sighs, coming over to greet the other with tired eyes. “I am well-aware that is far too late to be asking for favors but I beg of you… Lucien shouldn’t be here for this.”

“I’m not grossed out by vaginas, dad.” Lucien, only eleven, sits in a chair by the wall. His dark hair touches his shoulders, and his eyes are bored. 

“That is not the reason,” Damien gives a loud huff, reaching up to rub at his tired eyes behind glasses frames. “Mary, well, in her current state—”

“Word your next sentence carefully, Dames.” Mary warns him from across the room.

“She is… Cursing an awful lot. And I am sure lots of other profanities will leave her mouth throughout the night and… I just think it would be appropriate for Lucien to have an impromptu sleepover with Ernest.”

“Ernest is gross,” Lucien whines, crossing his arms and looking at his dad and Mr. Vega. “He’s snotty.”

“He’s seven, Lucien. Sometimes younger children are a little messier than older children.”

“He also picks his nose. And thinks my name is funny.”

“His name is Ernest Hemingway.” Damien points out, quickly looking to Hugo and laughing. “No offense intended, of course. It is a lovely name.”

“None taken,” Hugo says with a chuckle, reaching up to brush a few stray hairs out of his face. “Come on, Lucien. I’ll make you and Ernest some hot chocolate.”

“Fine,” Lucien sighs. He follows Hugo out of the room and leaves Damien and Mary alone.

“Mary, where would he be? It is not unlike Robert to be out at this time of night, but Joseph? Why, it’s just peculiar and I do believe you are hiding something from me.”

Mary makes a face, rolling her eyes. “Robert and Joseph are dating.”

“…What?”

“They’re a thing. Joseph doesn’t know that I know about it, either. So, just, don’t say anything.”

“Mary,” Damien looks downright offended, a hand grasping his shirt at the place over his heart. “Your husband is cheating on you?”

“Well, I guess he thinks he is. I told Robert I was cool with it.” Mary tilts her head back, groaning a bit as her muscles contracted once again. Damien is silent as Mary breaths her way through it, squeezing her hand all the while. “Call them again.”

Damien wants to argue, to extract every detail and secret he can, but he obeys. After a few rings, someone finally answers.

“Hello?” Joseph asks, voice hoarse and groggy with sleep. “Damien, is everything alright?”

“No, it is _not_ alright!” Damien snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a loud sigh. “Mary is in labor and you are nowhere to be found.”

“Oh, oh shit.” Joseph is suddenly very much awake, and Damien hears him shifting around. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The line clicks, and Damien closes his phone with a huff. 

“Mary, spare me no details. What exactly is happening between the three of you all?”

* * *

_Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011_

“No, Joseph,” Damien lets out a quiet sigh, eyeing him from where he stood. “She doesn’t want to take the medication the doctor prescribed.”

“I don’t get it,” Joseph admits, reaching up to rub at his temples. “It will help her. She hasn’t left bed in days, Damien. All she wants to do is sleep. I don’t know what else to do.”

“It will pass.” Damien says with a soft sigh, dusting a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Pregnancy is rough on the body and the mind. She just needs time to heal, and she needs someone to be there for her.”

“I’m _trying_ ,” Joseph didn’t mean for it to come out as forceful as it did. Damien had been making snipes at him over the last few months, and the other made him defensive. He wasn’t sure what Damien had against him. An anxious part of him, in the back of his mind, had its own theories. _He knows about you and Robert. He knows what you’re doing and he’s angry._

Damien passes Joseph as he makes his way down the hallway, cloak bellowing behind him as he makes his leave. Joseph peeks into their bedroom, staring at the lump under the blanket that was his wife. “Darling, do you need anything?”

No reply.

“Water? Food? Do you want to see Chris?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Joseph finally relents, closing the door and standing hopelessly in the hallway. A quick walk down the hall to the nursery is how Joseph finds Robert. All six feet four inches of the man, gruff and scary, cradling a tiny blond baby in his arms. The sight warms him and makes him feel guilty all at once. _Maybe Damien told Mary. Maybe that’s why she’s so upset. Maybe it’s all your fault._

Robert’s voice is soft as he sings to Chris, soothing the small child back to sleep. Joseph’s lips quirk up at the familiar lyrics of Sweet Child of Mine, but there’s no real sense of happiness to the action. It’s robotic. 

“You’re good with him,” Joseph finally notes, seeming to startle Robert. The other turns quickly, relaxing noticeably and smiling softly.

“I guess it’s different now, you know?” Robert starts, seeming to hesitate for a long moment. His brows turn upwards towards the middle, a familiar look. He was trying to find the words to say. “When Val was this small, I was just a teen. All of this was either too scary to deal with or too boring. But, now… It just feels so right. I thought I’d be scared whenever this kid came along but… Shit, I love the little guy.” The last part is a little choked up, and Joseph feels a pang in his heart. 

“Thank you. I mean it.” Joseph says suddenly, coming up and gently resting his hands on Robert’s sides. “With Mary like this… The fact that you can come around and help with Chris seriously just… It means the world to me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Robert shrugs. “I mean, the lil’ guy and I are bonding and it’s a load off your shoulders. No need for you guys to be putting out for a babysitter or something when I’m next door.”

“You’re basically a nanny.” Joseph jokes, stroking Robert’s sides softly. Robert cuts him a look.

“You’re right. I take care of the kid and I’m sleeping with the married man who owns the place. I am a fucking nanny.”

“You’re also Mexican, so…”

“What does that mean?”

“All the nannies and maids on television are Mexican?”

Robert tsks a bit, shaking his head. “Alright, Wonderbread. You’ve killed the moment. My dick is officially no longer interested.”

* * *

_Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011_

He felt sick to his stomach, seated on the couch and staring blankly at the floor. Damien’s chiding comments had become seemingly relentless, playing over and over again in the back of his mind. What was he doing? Having an affair behind the back of his pregnant wife? With another man of all people. _You’re going to hell, Joseph._

How had he gotten so far off track? How had he convinced himself for so long that this would be alright? He loved Robert dearly, he really did. Robert made him feel alive in a way that he didn’t know he could. But it wasn’t right. 

Mary was sick. She was suffering, and he was splitting his time between her and Robert. How was that fair to her? And what if the church found out? What if his parents did? Everything he had worked so hard for his whole life would be gone. Robert loved him because of who he was. Put together, thoughtful, and pragmatic. What would Robert think of him when he realized just how hard he could really fall?

Joseph actually thought he was going to vomit for a long moment, a hand clamping over his mouth as he hunches over on the couch. The bile burning his throat subsides, and he pushes himself to his feet. This was it. He couldn’t do this anymore. 

“Mary,” his voice is soft as he greets her. She’s seated in a chair next to Chris’ crib, hair tousled from sleep and eyes tired. “I’m going to step out for a little bit, alright? You’ll be fine here with Chris?” Joseph comes over, fingers gently grasping Mary’s shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. He was going to make this right.

The walk to Robert’s house takes longer than usual, Joseph’s feet dragging the whole way there. He lets himself in, noting that Robert is nowhere in sight. The house is clean, though. Joseph had been getting on him about that. He faintly makes out the sound of running water above head, most likely from the shower. _Okay_ , Joseph sets himself down on the couch. He could wait.

Twenty minutes feel like an eternity, and finally Robert is downstairs. He’s half dressed, towel around his shoulders and over his head like a hood. He fluffs it, pausing when he notices Joseph and cracking a little grin. “What a surprise.” Joseph just puts on a smile and nods. “Want a drink?” Another nod.

When a glass is set in front of him, Joseph doesn’t hesitate to take it. A long sip burns down his throat as he avoids looking Robert in the eye.

“Are you alright?”

“I guess not, no.” Joseph lets out a defeated sigh, staring at the drink in his lap for a long moment. He raises it to his lips, downing the rest of it in one gulp. “I’ve always wanted to be a good person Robert and… I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Robert frowns deeply, setting his drink aside and moving to grasp Joseph’s hand. 

Joseph doesn’t speak for a long time, and it’s the most uncomfortable silence to ever pass between the two of them. Usually the silence brought Robert so much comfort, but now, it’s got his heart racing.

“We can’t do this anymore.” Joseph finally manages, looking up at Robert with wet eyes. “I can’t keep lying to Mary and she needs me, Robert. You’ve seen how she is and this is just. It is not fair to her, and it is not fair to my child, and it’s not fair to you either.”

Robert has a look on his face that makes Joseph feel like he’s being stabbed. Repeatedly. “Look, fuck, Joseph, let’s talk about this.”

“No.” Joseph shook his head, looking back towards his empty glass. “I can’t keep leading you on like this is going anywhere, Robert.”

“…But it is going somewhere.”

“Where?” Joseph finally stood, turning to look at Robert. “Where the hell is this going? It’s not like we could have a normal life together!”

“We don’t have to have a normal life,” Robert insists, his voice pleading. It makes Joseph feel like throwing up again.

“I _want_ a normal life, Robert. It’s not like we could get married or have our own kids or any of that! And why would you want to do any of that over again? I mean, we both know how badly it worked out for you the first time!” _You’re awful._

“I… I didn’t mean that,” Joseph manages after a moment of silence, voice small due to the lump in his throat. “Shit, I really, really didn’t mean that I… I don’t know why I said it…”

“Mary knows.” Robert’s voice is even, and his eyes are hard. There’s nothing readable there. Joseph is being shut out and he deserves it. “She’s known for over a year now.”

“…What?” 

“She was fucking _okay_ with it, Joseph.” Robert’s voice isn’t dead anymore. It’s angry. A biting growl that makes Joseph’s knees weak. 

“…I… What? What do you mean?” There’s no way. No way Mary knew about them and was alright with it. Why would neither of them tell him? Then again, it was Robert and Mary. The two of them connected in a way that Joseph could never understand. “I… Oh god. Oh god, Robert. I’m…”

“Get out.”

“Robert—”

“I get it, Joseph.” Robert stood suddenly, reminding Joseph just how much he towered over the him. “I’m a bad fucking person. I was a bad husband, and a shitty father, and then I was just your guilty pleasure sidepiece for the last three years. I’m not good enough to be your husband, or the father or your kid, or even the dude you fuck when you’re bored. Don’t have to remind me of shit I already know—”

“Stop!” Joseph suddenly yells. He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but without a single though,t he launches the glass across the room. It shatters against the bookcase that holds all of Robert’s movies, sending bits of glass everywhere. “I didn’t mean to say that! I didn’t mean to say any of that, Robert!”

Robert is stunned, eyes trained on where the glass is shining on his living room carpet. Joseph can see him shaking, Robert’s fingers balling into fists at his sides. “Get the fuck out of my house, Joseph.”

“No.”

What happens next causes Joseph’s stomach to lurch uncomfortably. Robert crosses the room, grasping his forearm in a tight but not painful grip, and begins dragging him towards the door. “Robert, let go of me!”

“I’ll let go when you get out!” Robert isn’t yelling. He’s doing just the opposite. His voice is like an angry whisper, growling and quiet. It makes the moment that much worse. 

They’re on Robert’s porch now, and the other finally lets go of his grip. He pulls back, quick to try and slam the door. Joseph wedges his shoe between the frame, pushing his weight against the hinges.

“Don’t lock me out, Robert. Let’s talk about this.”

“We did talk.” Robert snarls, brows pressed so hard down against his eyes it could cause a tension headache. “We talked, and you locked _me_ out. Go fuck yourself, Joseph.” And with that, Robert kicks Joseph’s shoe from between the frame and gives it a hard slam. Joseph stumbles back, eyes wide in disbelief. 

The walk home is automatic. There’s no thought to it was Joseph crosses the yard and goes inside his own house. He settles down on the couch, fingers shaking.

“Hey,” Mary’s voice is quiet. She’s coming down the stairs now, Chris cradled in her arms. He’s fussy. “I can’t get him to stop crying.”

Joseph holds out his arms and takes the baby. A little rocking and humming calms him right down. Mary looks a little envious. She gets up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor.” Joseph stares down at his child, taking in those big blue eyes. “Add something to my to-do list on the fridge. I need to look into hiring a nanny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah oh shit man this was a heavy chapter
> 
> but heads up there probably wont be a chapter on monday so there probs wont be another update until next friday. the reason for this is because the original chapters 10 and 11 i wrote i really didnt like where the story was going and was struggling to continue the story after them, so theyve been scrapped. so im out of reserve chapters essentially so i need a little extra time to try and get some more stuff done and out of the way. thanks for your patience everyone!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: a thanksgiving dinner, joseph and mary's parents, robert talks about his grandma, theres a tea party, and some cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent the whole day thinking it was thursday and just realized it was friday and it was like "SHIT I GOTTA UPDATE" lmaoo
> 
> just a quick warning that this chapter has joseph's parents in it and theyre kind of rly gross lmao. so there's gonna be some homophobic, transphobic, and blatantly racist comments on their part. nothing too too nasty or out there ok just a few offhanded lines and nothing violent but still pretty awful and i just wanted to warn everyone
> 
> also lemme know if there are any typos i kinda sped proofread this so there may be

_Monday, November 20th, 2017_

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” Robert inquires, speaking loudly so Vik can hear him over the crowd of the airport. “Val seriously wouldn’t mind, and I’ll buy your ticket.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Vik lied, readjusting Robert’s collar for the umpteenth time that day. He wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming week. “Go have fun with Val, okay? Mary already promised to keep me busy while you’re gone.”

“…A’ight.” Robert doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t press the subject further. “You sure you want to spend the holiday with Joey and the Pussycats?”

“Nice reference,” Vik chuckles softly, finally dropping his hands from Robert’s clothes. “I’m sure it’ll be fun. Plus, let’s be real. I want to meet the people who produced Mary and Damien.”

Robert barks a laugh at that, giving a quick nod. “Oh yeah, they’re something else.” He pauses when he hears over the intercom that his flight is boarding. He watches the people around him funnel into a doorway and out to the plane. He turns back to Vik, rocking back on his heels and half-tempted to stuff the other in his luggage bag and sneak him aboard. 

“I’ll see you in a week.” Vik says softly against his ear when he goes in for a hug, and Robert tightens his grip around the other man’s waist. “Take lots of pictures, okay? And don’t get arrested or do anything to keep you away longer.”

“Oh _please_ ,” Robert scoffs, his large hand resting against the small of Vik’s back. “I’d have to get caught in the first place to get arrested.” He finally pulls back, giving the other a quick kiss on the lips. Vik waves him off as Robert leaves his line of sight.

“Call me when you land!” Vik yells after him quickly, seeing a thumbs up show around the corner before disappearing again. And with that, Robert Small was gone.

* * *

“Sorry I’m late,” Vik apologizes as he enters Joseph’s office, twenty minutes past their usual meeting time. “Traffic around the airport is a nightmare.”

“It’ll get worse the closer it gets to Thanksgiving,” Joseph waves a hand, motioning Vik to take his usual seat. “I actually have to go this evening to pick up the in-laws.”

“Good luck finding a parking spot,” Vik heaves a sigh as he plops into a beach chair, propping his legs up and letting his bag slide to the floor. “Better yet, pray for one.”

“I don’t think God can do much about the traffic,” Joseph laughs, flashing a sweet smile in Vik’s direction. “Are you going to bring anything on Thursday?”

“Yeah,” Vik nods quickly, brushing his hair out of his face. “Mary told me to make mashed potatoes, so I’ve got those covered. I can also make stuffing if you need me to.”

“That’d help, yeah.” Joseph nods, moving to grab a sticky note and scribble a few things down. “Could you bring some kind of bread? The crescent rolls you buy and just stick in the oven are totally fine. I don’t expect you to make homemade bread.”

Vik snorts, shaking his head. “I tried it once. I don’t think Amanda and I let it rise long enough and it wouldn’t cook in the middle but burnt on the outside? So, it was like, half burnt, half doughy…” His nose scrunches up just thinking about it. “But yeah, rolls. Got it.”

“I think we’re pretty settled, then.” Joseph nods, counting off his fingers as he listed things. “I’ve got the turkey which I’ll put in the brine tomorrow. My mom is making homemade cranberry sauce, as well as some devilled eggs. Dad is talking about smoking a honey ham, as well. Mary’s mom is going to make Watergate salad and sweet potato casserole. Mary is making mac and cheese. I’ve got the gravy covered. Damien is making a few things, uh.” He pauses to look at another note that has Damien’s writing on it. “Mushroom and leek bread pudding? Stuffed butternut squash? Cauliflower gratin? A bunch of vegetarian stuff. And I’ll also be making the pumpkin pie.”

“You are making me so hungry,” Vik lets out a huff, wishing he hadn’t skipped breakfast that morning. 

Joseph tosses him a paper bag, and gives a playful shrug. “It’s bologna. Not really thanksgiving dinner, but…” 

“Thanks,” Vik snorts, fishing the sandwich out of the bag and taking a bite once it was unwrapped. “So, normal counseling stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joseph nods, quick to grab his notebook and the tape recorder. “Guess we should start with the fact that Amanda isn’t able to come home for the holiday.”

“It _sucks_ ,” Vik quickly replies, sighing and frowning at his shoes as he chews. “I haven’t missed a single thanksgiving with her since she was born. And yeah, it’s usually a holiday where we order Chinese food and watch movies but _still_. I’m going to miss her so much.”

“She can come back for Christmas, right?”

“Yeah.” Vik nods, setting his sandwich aside to open the fruit cup Joseph brought him. He slurps some of the juice from it, a little embarrassed over the sound it makes. Was that as loud and obnoxious as he thought it was? “Usually we’d go see my parents for Christmas, but all she wants to do this year is come home and sleep in her own bed. I can’t blame her, either. My parents are talking about maybe coming up for a few days.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Okay, I guess.” Vik shrugs, using the tiny plastic spoon Joseph had supplied him to scoop bits of pear out of his cup. “I’m not really close with my parents, but my mom really enjoys seeing Amanda and my dad just… Kinda is there. He doesn’t talk much.” Vik contemplates his parents coming to see his new home, meeting all of his neighbors… Oh god. He starts laughing, catching Joseph off guard. “I’m sorry. I just thought about my mom meeting Robert and… She would swear he was some Italian movie star or something. Or she’d feed me some ridiculous story about him being part of the mob.”

Joseph cracks a smile at that, nodding. “The first time my mother met Robert, she started listing off movies she was sure she had seen him in. Robert, of course, went along with it. I’m not sure my mom ever figured out he was kidding.”

“I wonder if Amanda thinks I’m as silly as I think my parents are…” Vik muses quietly, wondering if that was endearing or a blow to his ego. He was cooler than his parents, right? Right?

“Mine are too young for that, luckily. I almost hope they never grow up.” Joseph chuckles, reaching across his desk to give Vik a little comforting pat. 

The rest of the session dwells moreso on the upcoming holiday than anything else, but Vik doesn’t mind. He had originally expected to spend most of Thanksgiving crying and eating ice cream without Amanda there, but spending time with the Christiansen’s would be a nice distraction. And, if Vik was being honest, he loved those creepy kids. 

The drive home goes by quick, and Vik is a little surprised when he hears barking as soon he enters his house, having to remind himself that Robert left Betsy at his place this morning. He chuckles, kneeling down to pet the little Boston terrier. “You’ve been cooped up all day, huh? Wanna go for a walk?” Betsy perks up, jumping around a little in excitement and barking in agreement. 

Vik trades out his current jacket for something warmer, and throws on a beanie to keep his ears warm. He shoves the leash in his jacket pocket, just in case he needed it, before leading Betsy out the front door. After years of walking leash-less with Robert, Betsy has quickly learned not to stray far from the human she’s following. She occasionally runs a few feet ahead to pee on something or sniff someone’s legs, but she doesn’t leave Vik’s line of sight.

He’s not surprised when he finds the park relatively empty. School hadn’t let out yet for the day, and even if it had, it was too cold for most kids to enjoy. He finds a swing and sits down, plucking a stick off the ground and tossing it for Betsy. She chases it down, but doesn’t bring it back. Robert claims he’s still working on teaching her how to fetch. 

“Betsy!” Vik calls after her when she starts chasing a bunny that had bolted away, but she just keeps going and disappears into the tree line. “Betsy! Come back!” He hurries off the swing, jogging after her. Betsy was ridiculous. Robert had told him stories of her chasing things twice her size, like deer or foxes. 

He pauses once he’s a few feet into the trees and shrubbery, quickly realizing he has no idea what direction Betsy and the rabbit went in. He calls out a few more times, chest beginning to tighten with panic every second of silence that passes. _Oh god_. Robert has been gone two hours and he’s already managed to lose Betsy. 

“He’s never going to forgive me,” Vik breaths out in panic, the cold worsening the fast pace of his gasps. He coughs a bit, hand coming up to his chest as if he could sooth the anxiety away. “Betsy, _please_ ,” he pleads to the forest around him, reaching out to grasp a tree and lean his weight into it. He feels lightheaded, hyperventilating alone in the woods. Tears spring to his eyes as he contemplates the worst, Betsy being snatched by a coyote or getting lost or hurting herself. 

A bark shocks him out of his own skin, sending a violent shudder through him before he’s flooded with relief. “Betsy!” He croaks, almost collapsing at the sight of the little Boston terrier bounding through a bush and into his leg. He sinks to the ground, wrapping her up in his arms and sobbing softly. “Thank god, you’re okay. You’re fine. Shit, Betsy, don’t ever do that to me ever again.”

When his breathing as evened out, Vik makes his way back to the park and sighs softly. He doesn’t dare put Betsy down yet, cradling the tiny dog against his shoulder. She seems pretty comfortable there, at least. 

He wanders his way to The Coffee Spoon, thankful for the warmth inside. Mat looks up from behind the counter and flashes him a warm smile. “Oh, look at that cute lil’ pup!” His eyes crinkle as he grins when Vik brings Betsy over for him to pet. “Still can’t believe she’s Robert’s,” Mat snorts a laugh.

“Don’t let her small body and sweet demeanor fool you,” Vik warns. “She’s a killer.” 

“Sure she is.” Mat laughs, giving her one last pat. “I was actually about to call you, Vik. Lucien’s sick and can’t make his shift tonight.”

Vik gives a nod. “Yeah, I’ll cover him. Just give me a few minutes to drop Betsy off with Mary?” Mat gives him the go-ahead, so Vik carries Betsy back outside and down the street to the animal shelter. Mary is behind the counter, hair brushed back over her shoulders and chewing her bottom lip as she writes something down.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” she says without looking up, continuing to write. Vik watches her for a moment, noting how pretty she looks just absorbed in her own writing. Her brows are softly knit together in concentration, lips slightly parted, strands of stray hairs hanging over her eyes.

“Oh, hey.” Mary grins when she looks up, brows arching in surprise. “Dumping Betsy on me?”

“I have to work,” Vik says with a shrug, laughing. “Mat would let me keep her there but he’s afraid of setting off someone’s allergies.” He sets Betsy down so she can run around the lobby. 

The two exchange a few words about the upcoming week, before Vik has to say his goodbyes. He pauses at the door though, turning to watch Mary for a moment. “Hey, Mary?”

“Yeah?”

“You look really beautiful today.” 

Mary pauses for a moment, and Vik is honest-to-god surprised when he sees a hint of pink in her cheeks. “Stop kissing my ass, kid.” She finally replies, quickly turning back to her own work.

Vik can’t help but feel a little fuzzy his entire walk back to work.

* * *

_Thursday, November 23rd, 2017_

Vik steals one of the nicer sweaters he finds in Robert’s closet to wear for the evening, knowing that Joseph’s parents were rich and probably highly judgmental. He clutches a few trays of food in his arms as he leads Betsy next door to the Christiansen household. Chris opens the door, his usual bored look disappearing when he sees Betsy. 

“Bring them here,” Joseph calls from the kitchen and Vik is quick to bring his dishes to him. Joseph takes the stuffing first, quick to get it inside of the mostly prepared turkey before tossing it in the oven. “Thank you so much,” he says as he takes the bowl of warm mashed potatoes and the tubes of ready-to-bake crescent rolls from Vik’s arms. “Ready to meet everyone?” Vik makes a face, and Joseph nods. “I know. Damien is keeping them all occupied in the library right now. My parents aren’t too fond of him, but they can acknowledge the fact that he’s a good host.”

Joseph leads Vik down the hall past the dining room and into another side-room. This one continues the blue and white color scheme that is throughout the rest of the house, with bookshelves donning most of the walls and a television in the corner. There’s quite a few lounge chairs and some bean bags for the kids around as well. “Hi everyone, I wanted to introduce you to Vik.” 

“Hi,” Vik gives a little wave, taking in all the faces. He recognized a lot of them, the kids, Mary, Damien, and Lucien. There were four faces he didn’t recognize, though.

“These are my parents,” Joseph waves to two people sitting a good foot away from each other on the couch. The woman is an artificial blonde, with enough makeup to shave off ten years. She’s dressed very modestly, a palette of browns. The man is taller and reasonably handsome for his age, with bright blue eyes and neatly swept back silver hair. He flashes a smile that makes Vik feel like a million bucks, and he quickly realizes where Joseph got his charm from. “This is my mother Lisa, and my father Jack.”

“Lisa, Jack,” Vik nods to them, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re Mary and Damien’s parents,” another woman interjects, waving to her and her husband who is holding her hand. The woman is wheelchair bound, with inky black hair and greying roots. She’s dressed in all dark colors, with a tight choker around her neck. _Goth Granny_ , Vik thought to himself. Her husband is a tall man of thin build, with long, white hair pulled back into a braid behind his head. He has a nose ring and a few tattoos peeking out from under his clothes. “I’m Marceline and he’s Rocky.” 

Vik happily greets them as well, quickly understanding how these two produced Mary and Damien. Meeting people’s parents was always interesting. Meeting the two people who shaped a person you knew. He quietly wonders if his parents give off that impression, but he doesn’t think so. He wasn’t much like either of them.

“So, Vik,” Lisa starts, eyes scrutinizing each aspect of his appearance and making him feel incredibly self-conscious. “What do you do for a living? Are you married? Kids?”

“Oh, um,” Vik swallows his own nervousness and puts on as convincing a smile as he can manage. “I work at a local coffee shop that one of our neighbors owns, actually. And yes, I have one daughter. Her name is Amanda, and she’s eighteen now. She’s off at college and couldn’t make it home for the holiday.”

“Mmm,” Lisa hums, before giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. “But are you married?”

Vik had promptly ignored that question the first time, and couldn’t help but frown over the fact that this lady wasn’t exactly going to let it go. “I’m a widower.” 

Her expression immediately softens, a deep frown causing lines to form in the skin around her mouth, betraying her age. “Oh, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind me asking, how long as it been?”

“January 19th will make five years.” It was sort of surreal when Vik thought about it. Alex had already been gone for so long, and Vik still sometimes found himself making breakfast for three or rolling over in bed to grasp onto somebody who wasn’t there. At least now, a good three times a week, Vik would roll over to find Robert had snuck in at some point during the night to sleep next to him. A warm body in his bed was a feeling Vik dearly missed.

“Goodness, how awful. And for your daughter to grow into her adult years without a mother…” Lisa trailed off, sighing softly. “What was her name?”

Vik silently debated for a long moment, knowing that this woman would undoubtedly judge him if he mentioned that Alex was not a woman. Still, he had decided years ago he was comfortable with his own sexuality. Kind of. Maybe. “ _His_ name was Alex. But yes, no child should ever have to go through losing a parent.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Lisa mouths, that unreadable look returning to her features. She looks like she’s about to say something else, but Joseph places a hand on her shoulder.

“Mom, you should come help me in the kitchen. The pumpkin pie always tastes better when you help make it.” He gives her a warm smile, and coaxes her from the room with ease. 

_Thank god_ , Vik relaxes a little in his seat. Damien is giving him a sympathetic look, and Vik suspects he knows exactly what he feels. It reminds Vik a little too much of Alex’s parents, in all honesty. Strict Catholics who weren’t exactly the most supportive of his decision to transition, and had blatantly encouraged Alex to divorce Vik and take Amanda so she could be raised in a ‘normal’ household. 

“Don’t mind her too much,” Marceline suddenly says, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles at Vik reassuringly. “The woman has a pole so far up her own ass she can’t help but be rude. No offense, Jack.”

“None taken.” Jack sighs, despite being obviously put off by Marceline’s wording. “I’m not exactly supportive of your lifestyle choices, but I have half a mind to keep my mouth shut.” 

“Thanks?” Vik wasn’t sure if he should be appreciative of that or not. At least he probably wouldn’t get preached at by Daddy Christiansen. 

The conversation continues on quietly, Marceline making inappropriate jokes that made Mary laugh and Jack look increasingly more uncomfortable. Lucien excuses himself for a bit, and after a few minutes Vik does the same. His original intention was to hide in the bathroom for a few minutes to regain some composure after the taxing socialization, but instead he finds himself drawn to the sound of voices from the kitchen. Joseph and his mother talking. Vik knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he’s relatively sure he heard his own name so…

“I just don’t understand how you can be friends with someone like that, Joey. It’s not Christian.”

“He’s a very nice person, mom. He helps me every week managing the church’s youth group, too.”

“You allow him around the children?” She huffs. “And then around your children as well, Joey. It’s one thing allowing Mary’s occult-worshipping transvestite brother around them, but this stranger? What if he did something to one of them?”

“ _Mom_ ,” Joseph sighs loudly, obviously losing his patience. “You cannot honestly believe that every gay man out there is a pedophile. You are being ridiculous and very rude to my friend.” 

“She’s such a bitch,” Vik just about jumps out of his skin when he hears the whisper from behind him, turning to meet Lucien’s gaze. He looks angry, brows scrunched down over his eyes and arms crossed. “Don’t take anything she says personally. And definitely don’t tell my dad that she just called him a transvestite. The holidays already stress him out enough.” 

“I won’t say anything,” Vik replies quickly, nodding and frowning. “Family holidays suck.”

“Yeah they do.” Lucien sighs louder, arching his brow at a knock at the door. “Alright, here we go.” When Vik looked at him questioningly, Lucien gave a shrug. “I invited Pablo. Grandma is gonna have a fucking field day over that.”

“Oh jeez, good luck.” Vik sighs, watching Lucien head down the hall to the front door and letting Pablo in. Vik arches a brow, a little surprised as how cleaned up Pablo looks. Took his piercings out, pulled his green fluffy hair back into a neat bun, a simple grey button up, and some plain jeans. “Who are you and what have you done with Pablo?”

Pablo snorts, reaching up to fiddle with his hair a bit. “Lucien said his grandparents were really judgey and shit.”

Lucien was sort of quiet, just thumbing at Pablo’s collar and making a face. “I mean, you look handsome but also super fucking weird. I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.”

“And I can’t see your stomach.”

“That’s the biggest crime of ‘em all,” Pablo cracks a grin, leaning up to kiss the taller boy before they all shuffled back to the library.

“Who’s this?” Marceline inquires, offering Pablo a sweet smile. “I love your hair, sweetheart. Green looks good on you.”

“Name’s Pablo Vasquez, and thanks.” Pablo quickly shakes hands with all the adults in the room before nervously sitting down with Lucien. 

“Not doing Thanksgiving with your own family, Pablo?” Jack inquires curiously, but is eyeing Pablo with a little hint of suspicion.

“My fam’s having dinner later on today, actually. Lucien will be coming over to meet them all.”

“Oh? Isn’t it a little odd to invite your friend over for a holiday like this?”

“Grandpa,” Lucien says with a huff. “Pablo is my _boyfriend_. We’ve been dating for two months. You’ve liked some of my Facebook posts about him.” 

“Oh,” Jack says, and Vik wonders if the guy scrolls through his feed liking everything his family posted without actually reading it. Vik’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s quick to escape the cross-examination for some possible Robert time.

  
Robert: you should have come with me   
Robert: i will not admit that i'm freaking the fuck out   
Robert: but   
Vik: I should have come with you   
Vik: Is it too late to catch a flight   
Robert: i'll snag val’s car and head to the airport   
Vik: I can excuse myself while they’re busy interrogating Pablo about being a legal citizen   
Robert: oh jfc i forgot how awful mom and pop joseph are   
Vik: He made the mistake of referring to his relatives in Spanish and Jack actually asked what abuela meant   
Robert: oh shit my abuela is gonna be here fuck   
Robert: she still sends me cards for my birthday and shit every year even though i forget to call and thank her   
Robert: she’s like 95 or some crazy shit    
Vik: Oh wow that’s impressive as hell   
Vik: How big is your family?   
Robert: well there’s val and me, marilyn’s parents are here, my dad is coming, my dad’s five siblings and their spouses and kids, my mom’s family including her siblings, cousins, my abuela, my dad’s girlfriend and her three siblings and their kids, and at least half a dozen other people who tell me we’re related even though i don’t remember them at all   
Robert: how big is yours?   
Vik: Holy shit that is so many Smalls   
Vik: My family is literally just me, Amanda, and my parents   
Robert: none of alex’s family?   
Robert: if you don’t mind me asking    
Vik: He’s just got parents for the most part and well. They hate me so we don’t talk   
Robert: how could anyone hate you wtf   
Vik: It’s a long story I don’t wanna talk about right now   
Robert: it’s alright   
Robert: what is happening on your end rn   
Robert: here my ex-hitman uncle just told me he still has some contacts for me if i ever need to make someone disappear   
Vik: I’m not surprised that you are who you are, Robert. Not at all   
Vik: I actually ditched the adults to have a tea party with the twins    
Vik: We’re apparently drinking the blood of virgins and not tea, but I’m not going to question it   
Robert: need to burn some sage around those kids just to be safe tbh   
Vik: They’re harmless    
Vik: They play the creepy role well, but they just think it’s funny. They’re kids   
Robert: i don’t believe it for a second    
Robert: oh shit my abuela is here i gotta go    
Robert: ttyl   
Vik: Have fun!   


Vik sighs softly, thankful to escape into the living room for some peace and quiet. However, it doesn’t take very long for a few more guests to join them. Pablo and Lucien leave the room after a little fit of yelling, seemingly on Lucien’s end, and he sits down at the table angrily while Christie pours him a cup of ‘blood’. 

“It’s virgin,” she says as she hands it to him and he looks at her in confusion before taking a sip. It’s fruit punch. Pablo takes a cup as well, the two of them fitting into the space around the coffee table where they were set up.

“I can’t believe grandma sometimes,” Lucien grumbles a little, looking over at the twins. “Neither of you are allowed to grow up to be assholes.”

“Too late,” Chris replies with the most serious expression and Vik can’t help but burst into laughter. These kids were going to be the death of him.

The five of them sit around and drink their fruit punch for a while, another cup being set up once Christie insists that Sparkle Pony has arrived fashionably late for the party. This continues on for a few more minutes until Joseph hurries into the room to alert them dinner is ready. 

Fitting all fourteen people at one table, even if it was big, was a bit of a stretch. The twins are sharing a chair, and Crish is settled in Marceline’s lap. It’s relatively peaceful for a few minutes as the turkey and ham are cut and dishes are passed around for people to serve themselves. Vik takes the liberty of serving the twins, since Joseph is busy slicing things and Mary is three-quarters of a bottle deep. 

Everything tastes delicious, and Vik doesn’t hesitate to dish out as many compliments as possible to score a few brownie points. Hopefully he could avoid a lecture from Lisa if he was gracious as possible. 

When dinner is finished and everyone is too full for dessert yet, they all disperse. Lucien and Pablo take their leave to go to Pablo’s, and Vik retires to the kitchen with Joseph to tidy up some of the dishes.

“I am so sorry about anything my parents say to you,” Joseph says as soon as he’s sure they’re alone. He places a hand on Vik’s shoulder and frowns deeply. “They’re both very much set in their ways and no matter what I say I haven’t been able to change their opinions about people like you.”

_People like you_ , Vik almost arches a brow but decides to not bring Joseph’s sexuality in the mix considering Vik wasn’t supposed to even know about the Robert thing. “It’s alright. I’ve gone through a lot worse. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But it _is_ ,” Joseph sighs and reaches up to fluff his hair back gently. A piece sticks up at an unnatural angle and Vik fights the urge to fix it. “You have been nothing but good to my family and it’s like that doesn’t even matter to her. Hate is such an ugly look on her.”

Resist. The. Urge. “Yeah,” Vik murmurs, only half paying attention. “Joseph, hold still.” He looks confused for a moment as Vik reaches up to begin trying to fix his hair. “Wow, your hair is so soft.” He murmurs as he fixes the shiny locks back into a neat style, before dropping his hands. “Sorry, that was going to bother me until the day I died if I didn’t fix it.”

“It’s fine,” Joseph adverts his gaze, cheeks flushed pink as he tries to collect his own thoughts. Vik could easily see what Robert had liked about Joseph. His handsome face and charming demeanor, deliciously tanned skin, well-built arms… Alright, time to stop. Vik could fantasize about his attractive neighbor later. There were dishes to clean. 

“You don’t have to help,” Joseph insists as Vik dries and puts away clean dishes once Joseph finishes washing them. “You’re the guest.”

“I’d rather be in here than out there making small talk with everyone else,” Vik admits as he continues his task, having learned what cabinet held what by this point. 

“…Same.” Joseph admits after a moment with a huff, before going back to vigorously scrubbing away at the dirty dishes.

* * *

“I’m so glad you could come,” Joseph says after Vik finally deems it appropriate to go home. It was going on eight at night, and Vik was exhausted. 

“Thank you so much for having me,” Vik replies and gives Joseph a quick hug. He hugs Mary as well, who is a little less articulate from a surplus of alcohol in her system. She simply salutes Vik as he heads out the door and back to his house.

Once inside he feeds Betsy and flops over on the couch in exhaustion. Betsy jumps up on his back and snuggles up there, making it impossible for Vik to move. Seems like he was going to stay there for however long the tiny dog deemed. Was she snoring? Yup. Well, it’s bound to be a while. Vik decides to catch a little sleep as well.

* * *

_Friday, November 24th, 2017_

The next morning is immediately full of regrets, one of them largely being sleeping on the couch like that. His neck was never going to forgive him. He stretches and winces a bit, yawning and giving a quick glance around. Betsy had moved to her doggy bed at some point, and bright morning light was flooding in through the shades. 

Vik doesn’t bother with changing his clothes, simply opting to brush his hair and teeth and make some coffee for the drive. The traffic to the airport is even more hellish than it had been earlier in the week, and Vik is thankful he left a little earlier than necessary.

When he finally does arrive at the airport, he takes a seat on a bench near Robert’s exit and busies himself with his phone. Amanda had installed Candy Crush for him a few months ago, swearing it was all the rage with the other dad’s. Brian is at the top of the leaderboard for his friends list, and Vik glares at the screen for a long moment before beginning to hastily play through levels. Brian wasn’t allowed to be better at him at _anything_. Not even this stupid game.

“Candy Crush, huh?” A voice startles him, and he glances over to see Robert having already taken a seat next to him. He looks tired as well, and judging from his wrinkled dress shirt and pants, he didn’t bother changing out of last night’s clothes either. 

“It’s boring but also mind-numbing,” Vik shrugs, quick to tuck his phone away and turn his full attention towards Robert. “You look tired.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Want to go back to my place and sleep away the day?”

“Talk dirty to me,” Robert grins at that, moving to push himself up and head over to luggage claim. Vik follows suit, waiting for a few minutes until Robert grabbed his bag and the two of them headed back to the parking lot. “Can I drive?”

“Sure,” Vik shrugs, tossing him the keys and heading around to the passenger side. Driving consisted largely of sitting in traffic and not actually moving much, but Robert seems satisfied to drum his fingers on the steering wheel.

“So, how’d it all go?”

“Eh,” Robert shrugs his shoulders. Vik doesn’t expect him to continue, but to his own surprise, Robert starts talking again. “Val told me I should talk more so I guess I should actually do that, huh?” He huffs, readjusting his legs under the steering wheel as he was suddenly outside his own comfort zone. “Dad was surprised to see me. He’s a man of few words, guess that’s where I got it from, but he said I looked good. My abuela wanted to catch up on _everything_ she had missed over the last few years. She remembers details better than I do, honestly. Sharp as a tack for someone who’s almost a century old.”

“She must have so many stories.”

“Oh yeah,” Robert gives a nod and a grin. “Stories of her back in the 30s when she lived in Mexico. You’ll have to meet her sometime. She doesn’t speak much English but I can translate when needed.”

Vik tries his hardest not to look deeper into the idea that Robert is willing to introduce him to his family. Things aren’t serious. Keep a clear head, Vik. “I would love that, a lot.”

Another twenty minutes of traffic passes, the local classic rock station playing softly in the background. Vik glances up when Robert moves to dig something out of his pocket, producing a vape with a large tank and moving to take a long drag of it. Steam releases through his nostrils and mouth, and Vik thinks he looks like a cartoon bull for a moment. When Robert catches Vik staring, he shrugs. “Val has been getting on me to quit. I’ve been working on it but she this is a lot healthier alternative.”

“Do you like it?”

“It was weird at first,” Robert admits. “It’s a lot bigger than a cigarette as well, but it does satisfy the nicotine cravings. Shit’s flavored, too. Tastes like Skittles.”

“No way,” Vik arches a brow, having been wondering why the car suddenly smelt sweet. “So, you can literally just smoke water that tastes like candy?”

“Not just candy. I fucking stopped by one of those vape shops in New York and just… Fuck, there’s thousands of flavors. Bacon, vanilla, weed. Literally anything you could think of.”

“…And people still smoke real cigarettes because?”

“I haven’t the foggiest fuckin’ clue.”

* * *

Betsy is ecstatic when Robert comes in the front door, just about climbing his leg the moment he’s through the door. He laughs and scoops her up, dumping his bag off on the couch and not hesitating to head right for the bedroom. Vik yawns and follows suit, grinning as Robert gently tosses Betsy onto the bed and she rolls around, growling playfully. 

Vik leans forward to gently push her little face around with his hands, watching her growl and turn her head to gently nip and lick at his fingers. He barely registers Robert’s hands resting on his sides until the other starts pushing his shirt up. Vik pulls back to help get it over his own head, flushing a little as Robert’s hands roam over his hairy stomach and up his chest. 

“I always forget how weirdly soft your skin is,” Robert murmurs quietly, chin resting on Vik’s shoulder as he busies himself. His fingers pause to trail over the scars under Vik’s pecs, flickering to the other’s face quickly and then back. “Is it okay if I touch them?”

“Yeah,” Vik says softly, leaning his head into Robert’s and watching his hands. “The scars are a little sensitive, but everything above it is relatively numb. After surgery I didn’t have much feeling at all in my chest. Now there’s a little bit of feeling there, but not much.”

Robert arches a brow, moving to pinch at Vik’s nipples. “So, you don’t feel this?”

“I feel the pressure, but that’s it. The nipples are actually fake, so there were never nerves in them in the first place.”

“Woah, really?” Robert arches a brow, pinching them again and squinting. “They feel real.”

“Well, they’re supposed to.” Vik snorts, moving to touch Robert’s large hands wandering over his chest. “It’s still hot to watch you do that, though.”

Robert hums in response, finally moving to pull his own shirt off. He makes quirk work of his own pants, and Vik follows his example before Robert flops them both into the bed. Robert sighs softly, breath hot and balmy and smelling of fruit. Vik cups his cheeks gently, just taking in his features for a long moment before placing his lips against the other’s. 

They’re both exhausted, lazily sliding their lips together as they nestle up in their shared body heat. Robert hovers over Vik, knees digging into the mattress around either side of his hips, while Vik’s hands drift up through Robert’s hair and down his back. 

Robert finally pulls back, smiling softly and looking sleepy. He leans in to kiss Vik on the nose, but is quickly cut off by Betsy’s intervention. She’s gotten sick and tired of being ignored, and is now wetly lapping at both Vik and Robert’s faces.

“Oh god,” Vik laughs loudly, turning his head away and snorting. 

“Nope,” Robert grips Vik’s jaw and turns him back towards Betsy. “If you wanna kiss me, you gotta kiss my dog too. It’s the law.”

“You’re so weird!” Vik giggles but pets Betsy as she covers his face in happy licks. “Not you, Betsy. You’re perfectly normal. Your dad is the weirdo.”

Robert collapses down against Vik’s side, snorting and yawning. “I could list a thousand reasons why Betsy is definitely not normal, but I’m too fucking tired.”

“I’m too tired to listen to them all.”

“Mm,” Robert hums and finally closes his eyes. Vik latches around his warm and strokes his hair until the two of them drift off into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so gay over robert and vik tbh. theyre so pure and good


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: a rly cute moment with mary, a lot of drunk emotions, and some drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is really really good and has some great interactions between the four of them and i just love it
> 
> also a warning for a little bit of violence in this chapter nothing like super graphic or awful ok

_Friday, December 1st, 2017_

It’s too cold on the yacht, so Vik scoots a little closer to Mary and sighs softly over their bottle of wine. It had been a long week, the lonely holiday blues still wreaking havoc in his poor mind. Not seeing Amanda for the holidays had been hard, just like the first holidays with Alex all over again. He finishes off the bottle of the wine with a frown, setting it on the coffee table. “I’m not done drinking tonight.” 

“Mm, those words are music to my ears.” Mary hums in agreement, resting against Vik with her eyes closed. “I’ve been itching to get completely smashed.”

“Let’s do it.” Vik decides to throw caution to the wind, yet again. He was used to getting drunk with Mary, but when was the last time he was really ‘smashed’? It had been a long time. 

“C’mon,” Mary finally says, reluctantly pulling away from Vik’s warmth to stand up. He follows suit, offering her his jacket once they’re back outside in the chill. “You’ll freeze.”

“Yeah, but I mean. You won’t, at least.”

Mary grins at that, finally taking the jacket. “What a gentleman.” She hums gingerly, wrapping it around herself. The walk back to the cul-de-sac is long and tiring, and Vik is definitely frozen by the time they get there. Mary quietly lets them in her house, and Vik has never been more appreciative whoever invented electric heating.

“Sit down,” Mary tells him softly, nodding towards the couch. “I have a few bottles stocked away upstairs. Strong stuff. The kind that will really knock us on our asses.”

“Consider me ready to be knocked on my ass.”

Mary laughs at that, kicking her shoes off before quietly tiptoeing up the steps. All is silent in the house, so she lets herself into the ‘guest’ bedroom. It used to be the guest bedroom, but Mary had been using it for so long now that it was essentially hers. Kneeling down by the closet, she digs out a few bottles from the back, deciding on this one bottle of legitimate moonshine Robert gave her after a road trip down south. 

Ready to completely tiptoe back downstairs and out of the house, Mary is surprised at the sound of a small voice behind her. “Mommy?” Mary turns, eyeing Christie in the hall. She’s in one of her nightgowns, clutching a stuffed sparkly pony in her tiny arms. “I had a bad dream.”

_Be a good mom_. Mary sighs, coming over to her daughter and stroking her hair back. “You want something to drink?” Christie nods. “Hold this,” she hands her daughter the bottle of moonshine, which she clutches in her small arms along with Sparkle Pony. Then Mary gentle hoists the child up in her arms, a little unused to how big Christie was getting but managing all the same. 

Christie is quiet the whole walk down the stairs, and her eyes light up a little when she notices Vik on the couch. “It’s my knight!! Vik!! Vik!! I had a bad dream about the spiders and it was really gross!!”

“Oh no,” Vik mouths, happily getting up and coming over to take the child from Mary and into his own arms. “I had an awful feeling that my princess might be in danger, so I’m glad I came here to check on you!” He takes the bottle from her gently, setting it on the coffee table and sitting with the little girl in his lap.

“I’m so glad!!” Christie chimes, squeezing her pony to her chest happily. Mary feels warm watching the two interact, but also jealous. Why couldn’t she be good with kids like that? 

“You want some warm milk, sweetie?” Christie nods, and Mary departs to the kitchen to grab heat up a glass of milk in the microwave, adding just a touch of honey to the warm milk and mixing it. She comes back to find Vik engrossed in some story about a castle under attack by the spider king. Christie’s eyes widened with terror, hiding her face behind Sparkle Pony’s at the scarier parts of the story. 

“I wanted to get her back to bed,” Mary comments, hoping Vik hadn’t just woken the girl further.

“I know,” Vik says, waving Mary’s comment off with his hand before going back to his story. Vik the Valiant, Christie’s knight, shows up to save the day and the kingdom, scaring off the mean old spider king and saving the townsfolk. Christie looks downright delighted by the time it’s finished. 

“Alright, the princess needs her beauty sleep.” Vik decides, standing and cradling little Christie in his arms. Mary leads him upstairs back to the twin’s bedroom, noting that Christian was sitting up in bed.

“Did you have a bad dream too?” Mary inquires softly, coming over to touch the boy’s blond locks.

“No.” Christian replies, watching Vik set Christie down in her own bed. “I can’t sleep when she’s gone.”

Mary nods, sighing and giving Christie her milk. She sips at the glass, finishing it after a few gulps, and hands it back to Mary. “Mommy, can we do prayers now?”

“Yes, we can.” Mary nods, moving to take one hand from each of the twins. Christie reaches out to take Vik’s as well. 

“I want Vik to say them!!”

“Alright, alright.” Vik replies, hesitating for a moment. He hadn’t prayed at bedtime since he was eight or nine, so it’s a little bit of a struggle to will the words to memory. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take. If I should live for other days, I pray the Lord to guide my ways.” Vik falters for a moment, unsure if there was anymore. Mary seems to notice this, and takes over from there.

“Father, unto thee I pray, Thou hast guarded me all day; Safe I am while in thy sight, Safely let me sleep tonight. Bless my friends, the whole world bless; Help me to learn helpfulness; Keep me every in thy sight; So to all I say good night. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” the twin reply softly in unison, everyone opening their eyes.

“Goodnight guys. Love you.” 

“Love you too, mommy.”

Mary leaves the children, turning the light off and pausing with Vik in the hallway. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just… Make them like you so easily.”

“Mary, they _love_ you.” Vik sighs, tilting his head at her. “Christie was so happy to see you after her nightmare. She told me so while you were making her milk. And you did great in there with them.”

Mary adverts her eyes for a moment, willing away the burning sensation that often came before tears. She blinks a few times, keeping her composure. “Thank you.” She reaches in, moving to pull Vik into a tight hug. Vik sighs against her ear, stroking her hair back softly. They stay like that for a long moment, neither of them wanting to retract from the warmth and the feeling of fuzziness they leave in each other’s chests. That was, until there was a cough from down the hall that caught their attention.

Joseph, pajama-clad and a little uncomfortable, had been watching them for a moment before deciding to interrupt… Whatever it was they were doing. Joseph certainly didn’t want to speculate too much. “Hi Vik. What are you doing here?”

“I invited him inside,” Mary replies, crossing her arms. Her eyes are guarded, eyeing Joseph warily. “And then Christie came and told me she had a nightmare.”

“I told her a story and helped Mary put her back to bed.” Vik finishes, nodding a little bit. Joseph doesn’t look convinced, and that makes Vik uncomfortable. Mary wanted him to think something was going on, though. 

“Let’s go,” Mary suddenly says, grasping Vik’s hand and pulling him down the hall, past Joseph, and downstairs. She grabs the bottle and drags Vik out of the house before he can say much of anything. Once they end up back inside his house, they both sit down on the couch in silence.

Mary is the first to break it. “Still wanna get smashed?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

Joseph: Can I ask you a question?  
Robert: no  
Joseph: :(  
Robert: why the fuck are you even up this late  
Joseph: I couldn’t sleep.  
Robert: jfc fine what’s your question  
Joseph: It’s just that I got up because I kept hearing noises, and I assumed it was my children.  
Robert: is this your way of asking me to come see if there are demons in your house  
Robert: because we both know that went badly last time  
Joseph: No, not again.  
Joseph: I found Mary and Vik getting a little handsy in my hallway. And Mary dragged him out the second she saw me. Vik just looked guilty, but I can never tell if he actually did something wrong or if that’s just his face.  
Robert: are you actually  
Robert: i  
Robert: joseph are you fucking asking me if my boyfriend and your wife are having an affair  
Joseph: I’m just overreacting, right?  
Joseph: Vik wouldn’t do that. I’m just psyching myself out.  
Robert: you would know considering he rejected your ass  
Robert: lol what christiansen you ain’t got anything to say to that

* * *

Robert: your plan is working btw  
Robert: joseph just messaged me asking if i thought you and vik were up to anything  
Mary: LMAOOOO  
Mary: Good FUCK tht gyu  
Robert: woah there tiger  
Robert: are you ok  
Mary: Im fien  
Mary: Watsed  
Robert: i didn’t realize you still had the ability to get wasted mary  
Robert: this is actually kind of terrifying  
Robert: i'm coming over

* * *

Robert let himself into Vik’s house without much notice, pausing to take in the scene in front of him. A bottle of moonshine that is three-quarters of the way empty, a spilt bowl of popcorn, and Mary and Vik engaged in a heated game of Mario Kart. 

“Y’all don’t invite me to any of the fun shit,” Robert arches a brow, genuinely offended by his lack of invites to their Friday night escapades. “Does nobody think that I would enjoy some moonshine and Mario Kart?”

“Robert, shut the fuck up! I’m trying to concentra— DID YOU JUST GREEN SHELL ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT?” Mary turns to actually shove Vik over on the couch, controllers falling to the floor as she playfully pins him down.

Vik laughs far too hard at this, cheeks flushed red and words slurred. “I fight dirty, Mary.” 

“Robert, I’m going to kick Vik’s ass. You should leave. It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Nah, I wanna watch.” Robert snorts, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. “How much have you guys had to drink?” That moonshine could knock him on his ass, and he couldn’t imagine the hangovers these two would be nursing in the morning. 

Mary pauses for a moment, Robert unsure how to process the image of Mary straddling Vik in front of him. He decides to ignore it. “Uhh…” Mary makes a face, looking down at Vik questioningly. “How many shots?”

“…A lot?”

“Sounds good. And then… The bottle of wine. And this.” Mary turns to point to the moonshine, giving a quick shrug of the shoulders. “A lot. And all within the last… Six hours?”

“Yeah.”

Robert has to wonder when the hell he became the responsible one. He does not like it. He huffs, moving to take a swig from the moonshine. His face twists at the awful taste, bitter and burning, but swallows it anyway. “My ass is getting up early to make sure you guys don’t choke on your own vomit, huh?”

Robert turns off the television, and assists each of them back to the bedroom. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” Vik coos in his ear softly, arms latched around him like a koala on a branch. “I like everything about you.”

“Is that so?” Robert didn’t mind milking the moment a little. 

“Yeeeaaah.” Vik sighs as he’s sat down on the bed, not arguing when Robert starts to help him out of his pants. “You have a really, really nice voice. It’s so deep and rough and just aughhhh. I love it.”

Robert grins at that, tossing Vik’s pants to the side and crawling up to kiss him softly. “What else?”

“Your face.”

“My face?”

“It’s good.”

Robert actually feels himself fluster a little over the small reminder of the first night they met, grinning and moving to plant himself between Vik and Mary. “Mary, you comfy?”

“You didn’t even offer to undress me,” Mary scoffs, fighting with her buckle and skirt. She doesn’t bother with her sweater or leggings, just rolling over to bury her face in a pillow. “If y’all fuck, be quiet so I can sleep.”

Robert snorts at that. “Can do,” he replies, sliding an arm around Vik to hold him close. “Alright, what else?”

“Have I mentioned your butt yet?”

“No, but please elaborate.”

* * *

_Tuesday, December 5th, 2017_

Vik: If you aren’t busy I get off work at 3 so we should do something afterwards  
Vik: Maybe get some food and see a movie or something if you’re up to it  
Vik: Or I can grab a pizza and we can watch a movie in your living room  
Vik: Whatever works  
Robert: not today  
Vik: Oh okay   
Vik: You alright?  
Robert: tired  
Vik: Ok. Let me know if you need anything

* * *

Mary: Robert.  
Mary: I know today is a bad day but don’t drink yourself into a hole or anything, alright?  
Mary: I’ll swing by after work to check on you.  
Robert: i just want to sleep

* * *

_This is a bad idea_. Joseph swallows back the nerves in his stomach as he patters around his own kitchen quietly. Leftovers from last night and some brownies should be adequate, right? Would Robert even take them? He frowns, unsure of what to expect. With the kids away at church for their schooling, the house was eerily quiet, and it left too much room for Joseph’s thoughts to run wild.

He shoves them all aside as best as he can manage, gathering up the food in his arms and making the trek through the snow to the house next door. After a few knocks, he discovers that Robert probably isn’t going to come to the door. He sighs, digging in his pocket and producing the key he had sitting at the bottom of the drawer for the last few years, and uses it to open the door. 

Inside is cleaner than Joseph remembers, with less strewn about laundry and garbage than there used to be. It even smells better. He lets himself inside, smiling and kneeling down to pet Betsy when she approaches him. She doesn’t stay long, whimpering and running back up the stairs. 

Joseph takes a moment to put the food away in Robert’s fridge, which is relatively empty save for some expired milk, a few condiments, and some jam. Some things never change. 

Finally, he follows Betsy up the stairs and his face twists at the sound of vomiting from down the hall. The bedroom is as he remembers, but cleaner. No ashtrays, and most of the floor was visible. There was an empty bottle on the nightstand, and another sitting awkwardly atop a too small trash can. 

He finds Robert in the master bathroom, curled up around the toilet and puking his guts out. It reeks like alcohol and stomach acid and Joseph frowns. “Robert—” He pauses, unsure of where to go next. Robert stops between upchucks to look at Joseph with a look that should deter him but only makes Joseph sadder. “I brought over some food. Once you’re done being sick, you should come eat. I’ll make you a plate.”

Joseph doesn’t bother to hang around and get yelled at, opting to head downstairs and do as he said. He throws some leftover chicken, rice, and vegetables onto a plate and pops it in the microwave. He makes himself a cup of coffee and has a seat at Robert’s breakfast bar and waits into the other eventually makes his way downstairs.

He looks like hell. Messy hair, bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothes. His phone rings in his pocket, but he ignores it and takes a seat next to Joseph and picks at his plate. “Why are you here?”

“I was worried.”

“Hmph,” Robert sighs and shovels a mouthful of food into his gullet. “Well, I’m fine.”

“It’s not even noon and you’re throwing up. You’re going to get alcohol poisoning at this rate.” Joseph frowns, crossing his arms and making it quite clear he wasn’t going anywhere. “We don’t even have to talk, alright? We can just watch a movie or something. I just want to make sure you don’t drink yourself to death.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Apparently, you do.” Joseph sighs, shaking his head and getting up. He makes his way over to Robert’s shelf where he keeps his collection of movies, and scans through them. “We could rewatch some of the Rocky movies.”

“Get out.”

Joseph plucks the first DVD off the shelf and moves to stick it in the player, leaving it to play through the advertisements for other movies before it made it to the selection screen. “Any other day of the year I would listen to you.” But December 5th wasn’t just ‘any’ day.

“I doubt it,” Robert scoffs in annoyance, cleaning off his plate and making his way over to the couch on wobbly legs. He collapses, the couch springs squeaking in protest at the sudden drop of weight. “It’s been ten fucking years.”

“It’s hard to believe,” Joseph replies with a frown, eyes half lidded and downcast. He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, trying to turn his attention to the television and hitting the play button. Robert doesn’t continue talking, so Joseph doesn’t press the issue further. The two of them put all of their focus into the movie. 

Joseph had never been so relieved in his life to hear Robert begin pointing out things in the movie that he’d told Joseph about dozens of times before. About the artistic shots or iconic lines, or how the director made a really good call on portraying a scene a certain way. Joseph wasn’t even watching the movie at this point, just listening to Robert’s slurred movie critique. 

“You know,” Robert says suddenly, after a few minutes of silence. He turns to look at Joseph, hazy brain searching for the words. “You always reminded me of her.” Joseph had heard this before, as well. The same blond hair, the same tan skin, the only difference being that Marilyn had had brown eyes, not blue. 

“I know.”

Robert nods a bit, twiddling his thumbs for a moment before readjusting himself on the couch. Joseph’s heart stops as he tries to figure out Robert’s intentions, and he visibly relaxes when Robert simply lays his head in Joseph’s lap. “I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

“I fucked everything up so bad—” His voice cracks at that, and Joseph feels his heart sink in his chest. 

“Robbie, you didn’t fuck everything up.” Joseph gently runs his fingers through Robert’s unkept, greasy hair. He hopes the old nickname soothes Robert a little, and doesn’t make it worse.

“But I did.” Robert says with so much sureness that Joseph doesn’t know what to say in return. “Here I am pulling myself together and trying to be better ten years too fucking late.”

“Better late than never, Robert. Marilyn would want you to get better, okay? She _always_ wanted the best for you.” It was true, after all. Marilyn had always seen so much in Robert, so much that Joseph had gotten a glimpse of before things went sour and that he missed dearly. Having Robert here, curled up against his hip and dripping tears on his khakis, it felt so organic and right. “Marilyn may be gone but you still have Val. And you have Vik.” _Ouch_. “And of course, Mary and I want the best for you, Robert. I know we’ve had our stuff in the past but… I’ve never wanted anything bad to happen to you. I’ve always wanted to see you be happy, Robbie.”

Robert continues to cry in silence for a few more minutes, occasionally sniffling or hiccupping softly. It’s heart wrenching and awful, and Joseph is at a loss over what to do to make it all better. He settles for using one hand to pet Robert’s greying locks whilst the other strokes over his shoulder and bicep. “Fuck, I’m gonna regret this later,” Robert mutters suddenly, sitting up and wiping his face on his forearm as if his body hair could soak up all the tears and snot. “Can you just. Hold me for a while?”

“…Okay,” Joseph swallows thickly but nods, moving to get into a more comfortable position. Robert crawls over him, burying his nose in the crook of Joseph’s neck and going limp. His weight is warm and heavy on top of Joseph, and he feels so secure and at peace nestled there between Robert and the couch cushions. 

Just how things used to be.

* * *

_Wednesday, December 6th, 2017_

It was half past noon by the time Robert woke up, still glued to the couch. He winces at the surge of light coming in through the patio door, reluctantly sitting up and trying to piece together why he feels so completely shitty.

The last thing he remembers is sleeping on this couch, hearing Mary’s voice in the background while he had buried himself under his blanket and half-assedly told her he was fine. It had been dark outside when that happened, but the living room light had bothered him. That’s all he remembers of that, concluding that he must’ve fallen back asleep before she left.

He shrugs off the covers and yawns, pausing when he catches a glimpse of his arms. Soft blue cotton with a fleece interior, the familiar sweater bringing with it the memory of Joseph coming to check on him. A fit of anxiety and dread hits him, trying to decipher all of the details his brain could muster up from the depths of his inebriated memories. Joseph had brought him food, that much he remembered. He vaguely remembers watching Rocky, and then… The next thing his brain could find was the memory of wrapping up with Joseph on the couch, intimate and close and… _Oh god. Oh fuck._

“No, no, no, no…” Robert reaches up to smush his temples with his fingers, as if he could re-remember the night and prove his sneaking suspicions wrong. He had no way of knowing if anything had happened. He scrambles around his home for his phone, ignoring the pounding headache between his ears and the way light stung his eyes. When he finds his phone underneath the coffee table, he’s quick to start typing.

Robert: doc i think i fucked up  
Robert: i'm not actually sure either but like fuck  
Dr. Jennifer: I assumed you weren’t doing well yesterday. I tried to call you several times.  
Robert: fuck i know i just couldn’t make myself answer them   
Robert: sometimes i gotta well in my own misery and i don’t want to be saved we’ve discussed this ok but  
Robert: i FUCKED up  
Robert: i think  
Robert: i'm not totally sure  
Dr. Jennifer: What happened?  
Robert: i fucking drank too much yesterday which is shitty i know i shouldn’t have done it but  
Robert: my neighbor came over to check on me i guess and like  
Robert: something might’ve happened between us but i don’t remember  
Dr. Jennifer: Which neighbor?  
Robert: it was joseph  
Dr. Jennifer: Oh jeez.  
Robert: i am never drinking ever fucking again i can’t keep doing this shit  
Dr. Jennifer: If that’s the way you want to go, then I will fully support you.   
Robert: fuck i blew off vik yesterday to possibly cheat on him fuck fuck fuck  
Dr. Jennifer: Maybe you should ask Joseph what happened?  
Robert: fuck no the idea of talking to him right now makes me want to vomit  
Robert: i can’t ask mary either that’ll just start more shit with them  
Dr. Jennifer: You could ask Vik to do it.  
Robert: you want me to ask vik to ask joseph if i cheated on him yesterday  
Dr. Jennifer: You wanted to work towards building a healthy relationship with him, and part of that is being honest and living up to your mistakes, Robert. Even if he’s mad, he’d be much angrier if you kept this from him.  
Robert: god why do i always fuck everything up  
Robert: fuck me fine i guess i'm going over there  
Dr. Jennifer: I’m here if you need any assistance.   
Robert: thanks doc

Robert makes the decision to change out of the blue sweater and into a different one before he goes groveling at Vik’s feet, hoping he hasn’t entirely fucked everything up. It would be just like him to pull a stunt like this. He winces at the thought, yanking his jacket and some boots on and heading out the door. Betsy follows along, having to hop her way through the snow to keep up. It was cute.

He must look like a creep, he thinks as he stands there and continues to stare at Vik’s front door. He’d been there for a few minutes now, just aimlessly gazing at it and swishing the rising panic in his chest around. Eventually he builds up the nerve to knock, and is greeted with a tired but smiling face when Vik opens the door.

“Hey,” he says, pausing a little and examining Robert further. “Are you alright?”

“Hungover,” Robert murmurs softly, and Vik ushers him inside and out of the cold. Betsy runs in, tracking snow all over the carpet as she goes. He ditches his boots by the door and takes a seat on the couch. 

“You want anything? Water? Aspirin?” Vik inquires softly, and Robert gives a nod to both. “Have you eaten?” _Nope_. “Okay, give me a few minutes.” Robert feels his guilt accumulate in his gut as Vik flits around the house to find things to make him feel better. As if he deserved anyone doting on him like this.

“Thanks.” He murmurs softly when he’s presented with a glass of water and some aspirin, and watches Vik disappear into the kitchen. He hears some fumbling around and what sounds like a pan, and makes a face. He pushes himself up off the couch and makes his way into the kitchen and sits at the breakfast bar. “You don’t have to cook me anything.”

“It’s just eggs.” Vik shrugs, plopping a little piece of butter in the pan to melt. “How do you like them?”

“Over easy.”

“A man after my own heart,” Vik chuckles and starts making some toast while the pan heats up. Robert silently watches him crack some eggs into the pan and carefully cook them and shovel them onto a plate with a spatula. Soon enough there were plates in front of either of them, and Robert silently rips up a slice of toast and uses it to puncture a yolk, coating the bread in thick yellow liquid before popping it into his mouth. 

“Sorry about blowing you off yesterday. Wasn’t a good day.”

“It’s fine.” Vik reassures him, placing an egg on top of his toast before taking a bite. “Do you mind telling me what was bothering you yesterday? You don’t have to, obviously. I’m just worried.”

_I don’t deserve your worry_. Robert stares down at his plate uncomfortably, finally huffing a sigh of surrender. “It was the tenth anniversary of Marilyn’s passing.” He jumps a little when he hears Vik drop his fork, the other fumbling for a minute before giving Robert the saddest look that twisted his insides painfully. 

“Oh god, Robert.” Vik sighs softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. “I am so fucking sorry. I know that that doesn’t really help and I’ve been fed that line more times than I can count but…”

“I think I did something bad.” Robert continues quickly, feeling more and more disgusting by the moment as Vik continues to worry over him. 

“…Oh?” Vik pauses, tilting his head as he watches Robert silently. His hand squeezes Robert’s shoulder gently, frowning. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No,” Robert answers honestly. He would want nothing more than to never, ever think about this again. But Dr. Jennifer was right, and he had to be honest. “But it’s something you should know.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it Robert, you really don’t have to—”

“I think Joseph and I had sex yesterday.”

“…” Vik pauses for a moment, and Robert can see him trying to process the words he had just heard. “…You… _Think?_ ”

“I don’t remember,” Robert moves to bury his face in his hands, the muscles of his abdomen squeezing together in anxiety that it was painful. “I was really drunk yesterday, and he came over to check on me and… Fuck, I don’t know what happened.”

Robert can’t even spare Vik a glance, his whole bound wound so tightly that he felt like he might explode at any moment. What he doesn’t expect is the hand sliding over his shoulder blade and gently rubbing at the back of his neck. He finally peeks out of his hands, eyes misty as he watches Vik.

He doesn’t look angry, or sad, or even disappointed. His face is unreadable as his fingers work into the muscles of Robert’s neck and manage to make his whole body go slack. He feels like he’s made of gelatin after being so tense for so long. 

“Please tell me what you are thinking,” Robert finally manages, his voice hoarse and his eyes red with tears. 

“I doubt anything actually happened,” Vik says with a shrug. “I don’t think Joseph would’ve pulled anything while you were like that, Robert.”

“But—” Robert chokes on his own words, unsure as to why he felt inclined to try and dig himself into a deeper hole. “Joseph and I—”

“I know.” Vik nods quickly, reaching up to pet Robert’s bangs back. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out between all the context clues and once I did Mary filled in a few of the details for me.”

“…” Robert falls silent, staring at his half-eaten eggs that had gone cold and wondering how this situation was even real. “Why… Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“I’ve never been good at being the jealous type,” Vik shrugs after a moment, and then sighs. “And then the first thing you did this morning was wake up and come tell me about it. That kind of honesty is hard to put forth but it’s… It means a lot.” Vik’s lips gently brush the side of his cheek and Robert feels weirdly numb. “Plus, I had this rule with Alex that he could essentially do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted as long as he was safe and didn’t hide it from me. As I said, I’ve never been good at the whole… Well, monogamy thing, I guess.” Vik snorts, tilting his head. “I don’t care if you have sex with half the town Robert, as long as at the end of the day we’re happy.”

Robert was a bit speechless for a few minutes, neither of them returning to their food and just basking in each other’s presence. Robert still felt numb and exhausted, but he certainly felt better than he had earlier. “I don’t want to ask Joseph what happened.”

“Do you want me to?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” Vik shakes his head, moving to stand up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay? Finish eating, and make yourself comfortable.”

Robert watches Vik leave and continues to sit there for a long moment, wondering how in the world he had ever gotten so lucky. He didn’t deserve it, not in the slightest, but he didn’t have the willpower to tell Vik to stop caring about him, to go away and find someone better. 

He pulls out his phone and silently types out a text before taking a few more bites and retiring to Vik’s bedroom for a nap.

Robert: sobriety starts now  
Dr. Jennifer: We can talk about your plan moving forward later tonight, then.   
Dr. Jennifer: I’m proud of your progress, Robert.

* * *

“So, what’d you want to talk about?” Joseph inquires as Vik leads him into the cold back yard. The kids are inside, and the last thing Vik wanted was for any of them to hear this conversation.

“It’s going to sound a little ridiculous, probably.” Vik chuckles, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to keep warm. “And maybe a little like an accusation, but I swear that’s not what it is, okay? I just want you to answer honestly.”

“Okay,” Joseph tilts his head, looking a little nervous. “Is this going to be like a test? Should I have studied?”

“Heh,” Vik chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. It’s just… It’s about Robert.”

“Oh.” 

“Did you two have sex?”

Joseph’s mouth goes slack as he processes the question, blinking a few times and swallowing thickly. “Yes.”

“That’s what I thou—” _Wait, what?_ Vik pauses, staring up at Joseph’s guilty expression and feeling a well up of anger inside of him. Robert had been trashed yesterday, wallowing in his own grief and emotions. Vik knew how badly that hurt, and how hard it was to make it through days like that. And the fact that Joseph just waltzed in and took advantage of him like that—

Vik doesn’t register raising his fist until it’s already snapped across Joseph’s nose, sending him falling to the ground in the snow behind him. Blood runs, hot and bright, down Joseph’s surprised face as he gawks up at Vik.

“I cannot believe you!” Vik wants to hit him again, but tries his hardest to resist the urge. He’s shaking now, spouting a few lines of gibberish as his brain tries to sort the angry thoughts and continues to fail.

“Look, Vik,” Joseph starts, cradling his injured nose under a hand. “It was a long time ago, okay! But you wanted me to be honest and—”

“What?”

“…What?”

“It was a long time ago…” Vik echoes for a moment, body going limp where he stood. “I was talking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday? No! Robert and I didn’t do anything yesterday,” Joseph pauses, blinking a few times up at Vik. “I brought him so food and comforted him, but we certainly didn’t have sex!”

“Oh, oh my god. I am so sorry,” Vik reaches down to grasp Joseph’s hand, yanking him to his feet. “I just— I thought that… I was so surprised when you said yes because I didn’t think you would ever do something like that and…”

Joseph stands there speechless for a moment, before he suddenly starts laughing. It feels so completely bizarre and out of place and ridiculous, and Vik cannot help but join in. 

“Did I break your nose?” Vik finally manages through some wheezing laughs, reaching up to gently touch Joseph’s cheeks and examine it. It didn’t look too bad, so Vik thinks it’s probably not broken. 

“Why did you think something happened yesterday, anyway?”

“Robert couldn’t remember much of anything yesterday.” Vik explains, feeling a little guilty over the whole misunderstanding. “I am so, so sorry. This is such a mess.”

Joseph continues to chuckle a little, mostly in disbelief, as Vik helps him through the sliding glass door and back into the kitchen. Christie pauses to look at them both, eyes widening in horror.

“Daddy!!!” She yells as she runs up to him and hugs his leg. “You have a boo-boo!!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks, sweetie. Don’t worry.” He turns to look at Vik. “Could you watch her while I clean up?” After a confirmation, Joseph leaves the kitchen.

“What happened to daddy?”

Vik kneels down to smile at Christie, reaching out to smooth down her thin, golden locks. “Well, it all started when the nasty Spider King tried to capture a beautiful princess…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i hate to say this but im probs gonna have to switch to once a week updates just because i need some time to build up a nice supply of backup chapters. so ill just be updating this fanfic on mondays for a little while, sorry! ill try to get back to twice a week updates soon. thank you guys so much for reading this!! it means a lot to me ok this fanfic is my baby


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: vik, damien, and hugo having a book club to read some fanfic and discuss parenting, robert small making pancakes, and a trip to the animal shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot it was monday lmaoo im such a mess im sorry guys. BUT this chapter is super cute and wholesome and i think everyone will enjoy it ok.
> 
> (also @kerri hugo is in this chapter purely for you tbh)

_Sunday, December 10th, 2017_

“Damien, I don’t think I can handle another chapter.” Vik says softly, staring down at the packet of paper in front of him. They were only half way through it, and it had been two hours. 

“I agree.” Hugo nods vigorously, obviously spent as well. He adjusts his glasses on his face before setting the packet aside and grasping a tea cup that looked far too small in his large hands. “We should take a break to analyze the work, and return to reading next week.”

“If you two insist,” Damien pouts a little as he sets his leather-bound copy of the literature on an ornate table next to him, looking over the variety of finger foods he had set out for their meeting. “Do either of you have any favorite characters from this story thus far?”

“Inuyasha’s brother is interesting. What was his name?” Vik pauses for a moment, trying not to butcher it. “Sesshomaru?”

“That’s it, yes.” Damien nods, smiling a little. “He is a favorite of mine from the series as well. Perhaps sometime we could watch the entire anime together. It’s only a little under two hundred episodes, if I remember correctly.”

“There are movies as well,” Hugo adds. “Four. Damien and I have already watched through the series. It is interesting, to say the least. A little repetitive, but still enjoyable. I still stand by Miroku being my personal favorite.”

“Y’all are such weebs.” Lucien’s voice draws everyone’s attention to the library’s entrance. He’s pajama-clad, and his bangs are pinned back with a clip shaped like a cartoon spider. It was easy to forget that he was Amanda’s age, sometimes. Just a kid who put too much work into his appearance when he was out and about. “Sango is the best character in the entire show and anyone who disagrees is an idiot.” 

“Morning, my love.” Damien hums as Lucien strolls over sleepily to pour himself a cup of tea. “How did you and Pablo sleep?”

“Fine,” Lucien murmurs, snagging a finger sandwich before he quickly made a beeline from the room. Too many uncool adults for his taste, probably.

“Pablo spent the night?” Hugo arches a brow.

“Mhmm,” Damien gives a little nod, despite feeling a little sheepish under the gaze of the other’s. “It’s not exactly the most conventional but… Well, alas, Lucien is an adult and I trust him to make good decisions. And besides, if I told him Pablo wasn’t allowed to spend nights here, then the two of them would sneak off to have their little tryst someplace elsewhere. I would much rather know the two of them are in the house, where they have access to protection if they need it.” 

“How did the two of you even breach that subject?” 

“Lucien simply asked me yesterday if it would be okay if Pablo spent the night with him.” Damien gives a little shrug, sipping his tea. “I was nervous about it, obviously. But… As I said, he’s an adult and I trust him to make good decisions. I also extensively went over the importance of safe sex, despite Lucien’s groaning and whining about knowing all of it already.”

“I cannot even imagine,” Hugo makes a face, mustache twitching a little as he gazes down into his half-empty tea cup. “The idea of Ernest ever being mature enough for sex is terrifying.”

“It is and it isn’t all at once,” Damien purses his lips, wracking his brain for a way to better explain his words. “I ended up pregnant with Lucien when I was but sixteen years of age. He’s far smarter than I was about things like this at that age. He’s less secretive, as well. We have our moments, but I trust him completely. And I know that if he genuinely has any questions or concerns, he will come to me. I just have to be patient and not force him to talk about it.”

Vik silently wonders to himself if his own daughter is still a virgin. She would’ve told him if anything had happened, right? Even when she was so far away, he was but a phone call away. She’d tell him about it, right? He certainly wasn’t a virgin at her age, though. Alex and he had already been dating for a while when he turned eighteen, and then college was full of a few new sexual experiences as well. Anxiety sweeps over him for a moment and he fumbles around for his cell phone.

Vik: Hey panda how are you doing?   
Vik: I know it’s early and you’re probably asleep but I have a weird question for you   
Vik: Well okay it’s a really weird question   
Vik: Okay maybe I shouldn’t even ask it   
Vik: I’m probably overreacting    
Amanda: what   
Vik: Oh good morning honey   
Amanda: dad its not even eleven yet on a saturday    
Vik: I know I’m at Damien’s book club thing with Hugo   
Vik: They’re morning people I don’t understand it    
Amanda: gross   
Amanda: whats up?   
Vik: You remember when you were moving I stuck that brown paper bag in your suitcase    
Amanda: yeah dad hard to forget finding a bag full of condoms and lube that i didnt remember packing   
Vik: You still have it?   
Amanda: yeah dad its under my bed    
Vik: Have you yknow   
Vik: Had to use anything out of it   
Amanda: dad im not having sex with anyone   
Amanda: however i will say that my roommate and i may have gotten kind of high once and tried to make some of the condoms into balloon animals   
Vik: They make really awful balloon animals    
Vik: Decent water balloons though   
Amanda: i shall keep that in mind in case of emergencies that require water balloons   
Vik: I’m sorry about overreacting    
Amanda: its all good pops   
Amanda: im not even dating anyone honestly   
Amanda: im too busy with classes   
Amanda: youd be the first to know if someone cute gave me the time of day ok   
Amanda: now im going back to bed   
Vik: Alright sweetheart. Love you

Vik tries to tune back into the conversation, unsure as to where it had gone. Hugo and Damien were vividly discussing some Walt Whitman poems, which apparently had a tone of gay undertones that none of Hugo’s idiot students bothered to pick up on. 

“I had the students taking turns reading passages aloud and just… Listening to your own son, in the most bored and monotone voice, reading about a bunch of gay men, stark naked in a river together…” Hugo sighs, reaching up to scrub a hand over his forehead. “It takes all of the eroticism out of it, honestly.”

Vik can’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “You know what’s the worst, though? Watching a movie or show with your kid and suddenly a really graphic sex scene starts.”

Hugo suddenly groans, shaking his head fervently. His little bun bats back and forth a bit with the motion. “Do not remind me. All it brings to mind is the awful memory of when Ernest was eleven and we watched Titanic and he got his first boner when Kate Winslet was posing naked.”

Vik loses it a little, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Damien grins a little, shaking his own head with giggles. 

“I simply remember the conversation after that with my ex. Neither of us were ready or prepared to raise a straight boy.” Hugo admits, smirking a little with laughter. “I also was unprepared for explaining why exactly his body would react like that to seeing someone naked. Explaining human sexuality to a child is intensely awkward, for some reason.”

“You would be an awful sex ed teacher,” Vik snorts, shaking his head. “I don’t think Alex or I ever really had a serious talk about sexuality with Amanda. I think it was just kind of obvious that neither of us really cared who or what she liked as long as she was happy.”

“I’ve had many conversations with Lucien about such subjects, though they were often generalized or in reference to myself.” Damien muses, plucking a cookie off of a tray and nibbling on the edge. “I’ve always just wanted to make it crystal clear that Lucien is free to be whoever he wants. He’s always been so very accepting of my own life choices, and I want him to know the sentiment is returned tenfold.”

“I remember when Amanda was six and Alex and I first tried to explain to her that I was trans,” Vik starts, remembering his own intense anxiety over it all. Alex had been very forthcoming and had been the one to explain most of it to Amanda, while Vik simply stood next to him silently and tried not to cry and expect the worst. “Her first worry was which one of us she would dance with at school dances when they announced it was father-daughter time.” 

“Oh my goodness,” Damien places a hand over his heart, a gesture that is a tad overdramatic but a common idiosyncrasy for the other man. “That is absolutely precious. I came out when Lucien was nine, not long after meeting my late second husband.” Damien starts, thinking back on how much he had fretted over the idea of telling Lucien. He had worried what his son would think, no longer having a mother. Or what the kids at school would say to him if they found out. All of those worries seem so silly now, but back then they had been nearly debilitating. “Lucien’s biggest fret was that he thought I would cut my hair short to appear more masculine. He started crying because I used to let him braid it every night before bed, and he didn’t want that to end.”

“I love that,” Vik comments, feeling a little warm and fuzzy inside. “No matter what I’m panicking over, Amanda is always the one person who can tell me I’m blowing something out of proportion and I’ll believe it.”

“It is the same way with Lucien.” Damien smiles softly, staring at the cup of cold tea resting on his folded legs. “He has a way of figuring out when something is bothering me without us even having to exchange words. He often knows what I’m thinking as well. He’s so different yet… I see so much of myself in him as well…”

“I have to admit,” Hugo clears his throat, a frown touching his dark lips. “I’m a little envious over how close you two are with your kids. Ernest was always a rambunctious child, that much is true, but he used to at least like me. After his father and I split a few years ago he just… Spiraled, really. I expected it, of course. I’ve read all of the parenting books about divorce that I could get my hands on. I knew that it would take him some time to adjust but… It’s been three years. He turned fifteen last month, and nothing seems to help. I know most of it is a cry for attention and I do try to give it to him but… I just don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong,” Damien frowns and reaches out to gently touch Hugo’s forearm. “You love him and you have been endlessly patient and understanding.”

“It’s easy to forget sometimes that kids are their own whole person and not just an extension of yourself,” Vik adds, tilting his head a little and watching Hugo sadly. He was forever grateful that Amanda had not been a very rebellious child. At least, not against her parents, anyway. “One big thing I noticed when raising Amanda was that if I had to punish her, there were certain ways I had to do it. I quickly learned that taking her phone away wasn’t a good idea. It just isolates her from her friends, and she’s a social person. It was better if I let her keep her phone, but maybe grounded her to the house for a few days and gave her some extra chores. Yelling also did not work, at all. If I yelled, she’d start yelling back. I know sometimes it’s all you want to do, because you’re angry and it’s easy to yell and scream when you’re angry but… It just doesn’t help, at all. Kids get defensive when they’re yelled at. I guess it also helps that whenever I’m angry, I usually start crying. Amanda usually listens more when I’m a bawling mess.” Vik feels a little embarrassed admitting it, but it was true. And despite not being on purpose, Vik knew that the crying made him seem less like he was trying to punish Amanda and more like he was begging her to be good for his own sake. 

“I rarely yell at Lucien, if ever. Raising my voice doesn’t do any good. He just shuts down and won’t talk to me for days afterwards. Even when I’m scolding him, I constantly remind him that I love him and just want the best for him. I also started giving him choices young, which can go a long way.” Damien taps his shoes together idly as he tries to think back on examples. “At holidays, he could choose whether or not he wanted to hug his relatives. His body was his own, and I wanted him to know that he never had to touch anyone if he didn’t want to. I let him choose his clothes and haircuts and stuff young, even if I thought whatever he was wearing was atrocious. I never made him go to any school events or anything if he didn’t want to, unless it was required. It’s good for them to feel like they have some sense of control.”

“It feels like he has _all_ the control,” Hugo huffs a sigh, resting his elbow on the armrest and setting his chin in his palm. “I’m the one who has no say in anything he does, it seems. Half of his actions are done purely with the intent to upset me, it seems.”

“Stop reacting, then.” Vik offers up, gaining a curious look from the other two. “If he does the things he does to get a rise out of you, stop letting them get to you. If he can’t bother you anymore, he’ll probably get bored. Hell, be extra nice to him. Spoil him like he’s being good just to confuse him. He’ll eventually feel guilty for trying to be mean while you’re being so nice, and then maybe you both can mellow out and come to an understanding.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Hugo arches a brow, tossing that idea around in his head. It would be plausible. Ernest reacted well when Hugo was nice to him, and usually would be pretty good for a few days after Hugo giving him a gift of some sort. It felt a little bit like buying his son’s affection, but at least maybe he’d be able to go a week without yelling at him. 

“Plus, have you and him ever really talked about your divorce?” Vik inquires, wondering if maybe he was overstepping boundaries. “I just ask because I remember one night back in January, Robert and I snuck into some movie theater and Ernest was there with some friends talking about how the subpar romcom we were watching was some story about true love. I mean, I guess what I’m saying is, he might have some pretty warped ideas of what love is and he might still not really understand why you and your ex broke up.”

Hugo seems to think that over, eyes tired as he adjusts the buttons of his tweed coat, fingers itching for something to fiddle with. “It seems I have quite a bit to discuss with my son over the coming days…” 

“I wish you the best of luck, Hugo.” Damien hums softly, smiling sweetly at the other.

The room goes quiet for several minutes, and Damien excuses himself to heat up another kettle for tea. Hugo picks at the cheese and crackers and Vik nibbles on what Damien claims to be a crumpet, but just looks like an English muffin. Were they the same thing? He had no idea. 

“Boys,” Mary’s voice suddenly greets, grinning from the library entrance. She’s got Crish balanced on her hip and a diaper bag strapped over her shoulder. Her heels click against the dark wood floors as she saunters over to set both the toddler and bag down on the loveseat. She’s still dressed up, delicate curls tied back into a bun, several strays twisting around the frame of her face. She must’ve just gotten back from church. 

“I am starved. I skipped out on breakfast and trying to quietly eat a bag of chips during mass is apparently seen as rude.” She’s quick to take a seat on the armrest of Vik’s chair, leaning in to snatch up a little finger sandwich. She munches on it, letting out a sigh. “A BLT without the bacon is not the same,” she comments. “This is essentially a salad, but with more carbs.”

“You could afford a few more carbs, my dear Mary.” Damien comments as he reenters the room with a steaming kettle. “You dropped all of that weight after having Crish far too quickly.”

“We both inherited dad’s metabolism, Dames. Skinny as sticks, it seems.” Mary snorts, ditching the half-eaten sandwich and going for the cookie tray instead. “The one nice thing about having four kids is I used to be a sad excuse for a B-cup. Now I fit into a D.” Mary munches on a cookie, a hand moving to highlight her chest. “I think they look good as fuck, honestly. I’m fishing for compliments, guys. Get your butts in gear.”

“I’m gay.” 

“I’m your brother, Mary.”

“You have a great rack.” Vik offers up, to which Mary laughs and gives him a high-five. 

“Thank you, Vik. I do, indeed, have a great rack.”

* * *

_Saturday, December 16th, 2017_

Robert: you eaten yet   
Vik: Nope   
Robert: come over   
Vik: Okay

* * *

Vik slides some boots on with his pajamas, wrapping up in a thick jacket quickly and making the short trek across the Christiansen yard and to Robert’s. He lets himself in, stomping the snow off of his shoes and setting them aside. “Morning.”

“Mornin’.” Robert replies, hair wet from a shower. It was barely ten in the morning and Robert had already showered, while Vik was just crawling out of bed for the sole reason to come see him. “You have got the gnarliest case of bed head I have seen in a while.”

Vik pauses, stopping to find his phone and get a look at himself in the front camera. “Oh jeez,” he murmurs over the mess of curls sticking out in varying directions. He tries to fluff it down to a normal shape, but it’s futile. 

Robert snorts, coming over to attempt to sort out the mess. He doesn’t seem to be helping any, but Vik isn’t going to stop him. He’s feeding off the domestic bliss of Robert Small fussing over his hair. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes. With chocolate chips, because why the fuck not?” Robert replies, finally dropping his hands from Vik’s hair and leading the other back to the kitchen. It was messy, but not the way it used to be. Vik could remember the first time he had seen it, with dirty dishes smelling faintly of mold stacked in the sink and bare cabinets left partially open. Now, though, it was mess of flour and cooking supplies. It looked lived in, not abandoned.

“From scratch?”

“Bisquick ain’t got shit on me,” Robert smirks as he returns to his bowl of pancake batter, using a wooden spoon to mix it around a bit. “Little known secret that you are forbidden from telling anyone, _ever_. Got it? Anyway, I fucking love Pinterest. I have been saving recipes on there for like, two years, and never made any of them. Had a lot of energy this morning, so thought that I might as well look up something for breakfast.”

“What is Pinterest?”

Robert pauses, turning to give Vik a look. “…I cannot believe you are serious. It’s an app that middle aged women use to like, share recipes and craft ideas. I originally got it because there’s a small community of whittlers there, but I ended up falling into food porn hell.” He heats up a frying pan on the stove, and pours a little circle of batter into it. “Guess I don’t mind that much, really. Cooking is pretty fun when I have the energy for it.”

“Yeah,” Vik agrees, leaning back against the counter and just watching Robert in a clean Henley and some sweats, make them pancakes for breakfast. “You’re a real chatterbox today. It’s nice.”

“It’s nice?”

“Yeah. I like listening to you talk.” Vik shrugs, and he swears he sees what seems to be a hint of pink on Robert’s cheeks before he turns back to the food. 

“I’ve been sober for ten days,” Robert suddenly says as he pours the last of the batter into the pan, ready to top off the towering stack of steaming pancakes. “Haven’t had a drop since the 5th.”

Vik pauses for a moment, comprehending that. Robert hadn’t even mentioned that he had stopped drinking, but Vik was proud nonetheless. “That is so great, Robert! How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” Robert snorts, finally placing the final pancake onto the stack and carefully moving it to the small dining table for them. He fetches a few more necessities before they’re both seated and dividing the pancakes amongst each other. “The first few days were alright, I think mostly because I slept through ‘em. Nights are pretty awful for some reason. Like alcohol becomes more appealing after dark.” 

“I think there’s a scientific reason for that,” Vik starts, chewing on a mouthful of pancake. “Like how some people get seasonal depression from the lack of sunlight? The sun makes your brain release hormones or something.” 

“Huh. I just thought the holidays fucking sucked.”

“They do,” Vik snorts, grinning a bit. “They’re awful, but the lack of sunlight definitely contributes to making them even worse. The only saving grace for holidays are the sales and all the food.”

The conversation tapers off there as the two of them eat in silence. Betsy putters on in after a few minutes, not hesitating to hop up in Vik’s lap and trying to stick her nose into his plate. “Betsy!” Vik laughs, pulling her away and watching her slurp at the maple syrup on her snout. He moves to cut her a piece, giving it to her. She hops down, dropping it right on the floor to make a bigger mess before scarfing it. “I’ll clean that up.”

“She’s got it,” Robert replies as Betsy begins to thoroughly lick the floor clean. “Good girl. My lil’ vacuum cleaner.” 

“Amanda used to do the same thing when she was three.” 

Robert barks a surprised laugh, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle himself. “Holy shit.” He shakes his head, a toothy smile spread across his face. Vik silently giggles and admires the way Robert’s eyes crinkle up when he looks happy, the expression seeming to shave ten years off his age. “What a good kid.”

“It’s hilarious now, but back when it was happening I was so scared she was going to get sick. I would mop the floor at least twice a day. Alex used to tell me that Amanda was probably a dog in her past life.”

“He was probably right.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. That girl loves dogs more than she does anything else.” 

“Have y’all ever had a dog?”

“Nope.” Vik says, shaking his head. “Alex was allergic, so we couldn’t bring one home around him. Amanda and I talked about it a bit after we moved up here, but I think we both just got busy with other things. She has been bothering me to get a pet to keep me company, though. A cat would probably be a better fit, though. I’m not home enough to take proper care of a dog.”

“Let’s go get one.”

“What?”

Robert stands up to take their empty plates, bringing them over to the sink to try to rinse the excess syrup off. “Let’s go get you a cat. Mary will probably waive your adoption fee.” 

Vik stares at him for a moment, before finally getting up and wrapping up the leftover pancakes. “I mean, alright. I raised a child, so I can handle a cat, right?”

“It’ll be a lot like Amanda, except it won’t have a cell phone bill, it’ll eat less, and it’ll shit in a box.” Robert snorts, ducking back into the living room. “Go get dressed!”

“So you don’t want to hear about the time when Amanda was two and she literally pooped in a box?” Vik calls after him, hearing Robert’s footsteps stop.

“Toddlers are so fucking weird.”

* * *

Vik twiddles his thumbs nervously, overwhelmed with the mix of emotions inside of him. He was excited for a pet, but he was also so anxious he felt nauseous. “What if it hates me?”

“Pfft,” Robert scoffs, eyes leaving the road for a fraction of a second to look at Vik. “It’ll stop hating you when it realizes that you’re its food source. Cats and dogs may be pretty different, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can buy their love with food.”

“Amanda really is a dog.” Food was the quickest way to her heart, after all. “But okay, so I’ll need cat food, a litter box and litter, a brush, some toys… Is that it?”

“A scratching post so it doesn’t tear your couch apart. Maybe just get one of them fuckin’ giant cat jungle gyms. The tree things, with all the shelves and shit. And maybe a bed?”

“It’ll be sleeping in my bed, probably. Or if it hates me, Amanda’s.” Vik rings his hands as they pull into the small parking lot by the animal shelter. Robert parks right next to Mary’s car, a blue Mustang that was older than she was. Mary once mentioned that her dad had passed it down to her when she turned sixteen, and she’s been taking care of it ever since. 

“Hey, hey, we’re here to cat shop, not car shop. No matter how fucking nice Mary’s ride is.” Robert nudges Vik’s arm, before moving to get out of the car. He produces his vape from his jacket pocket, taking a deep inhale of fruity smelling vapor as the two of them make their way inside. 

“Sailors,” Mary greets from behind the counter, giving them a quick salute. “Here to sample my wares?”

“You make it sound like you’re running a brothel and not an animal shelter, Mary.” Vik jokes, leaning on the opposite side of the counter from Mary.

“That’s exactly what’s happening,” Robert starts, voice deadly serious. “This animal shelter is just a cover for Mary’s underground whore house. I brought you here to sell you to Mary, Vik.”

“I hope you’re selling me for a decent price, at least.”

“Ten bucks.” Mary smirks, and Vik shoots her a playful little glare. “I was willing to pay twenty earlier, but that’s just because you look better in your profile picture than you do in real life.”

Vik places a hand over his heart in mock offense. “I am worth at least fifteen.” 

“Keep dreaming, sweetheart.” Mary cracks a grin, leaning down on the other side of the counter so her and Vik were close. She gives him an intense look for a moment. “I’ll pay twenty if you’re down for anal.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Mary laughs, shaking her head and swatting away the hand Robert put out expectantly, waiting for his money. “Alright, alright. I own this place, so I gotta try to be somewhat of a business professional. What are y’all here for?”

“Vik’s gettin’ a cat.”

“No shit?” Mary arches her brows, pushing up from the counter and starting her way towards the back. “Well, come on then. I got a great selection of pussy for you.”

“You’ve been waiting all day to say that, haven’t you?”

“Obviously.” Mary rolls her eyes, leading them into a hallway. She opens a door and ushers them into a large room with a washer and dryer, and countless cat trees and cubbies. There’s a good two dozen cats just lazing about, and Vik is suddenly overwhelmed with joy. “This is Harley,” Mary points to a cat sleeping on top of the washing machine. “She’s a huge bitch, and if anyone touches her washing machine, she beats them to a pulp.”

“My kind of lady,” Robert snorts, moving to scratch Harley between her ears.

“You got a kind of cat in mind? Age? Breed?”

“Definitely not a kitten.” Vik quickly shakes his head. “They’re super cute, but I don’t want anything I have to litterbox train. As for breed… I have no idea. I just want one that’ll probably sleep in my bed and won’t hate me.”

“I can work with that.” Mary grins, waving her arm towards the rest of the room. “Have a look. This isn’t all of the cats I have, of course. I have a couple in the next room that are in cages, mostly due to health stuff.”

“Like?” Robert inquires, scooping up a random tabby. 

“Well, some of them have to eat special foods due to their health issues or if they just had surgery. There’s also the one we’ve got with FIV, and Blind Billy. He’s a sweetheart but if you let him roam around, he just walks into shit.”

Vik kneels down by a little cluster of cat trees, instantly attacked by lots of meowing cats looking for attention. He eagerly tries to pet every single one, wondering if he could somehow manage to adopt every last cat in his vicinity. “Hi, hi, hi…” He coos to each one, melting at the sound of purrs. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Robert arches a brow, watching Vik lie on the floor and quickly being buried underneath the more social cats. 

“I think Pizza is eating his hair.”

“Vik, the cat biting your hair is named Pizza.”

“I love you,” Vik tilts his head back to look at Pizza. He was a cute cat, with yellowish blond fur and circular shaped reddish-brown dots. “He actually looks like a pepperoni pizza, oh my god. I love him more.” 

“I named this one over here Robert,” Mary laughs as she approaches a brown, short haired cat, seated atop a perch. She scoops a toy up from the ground, waving it in front of Robert’s (the cat) face, before tossing it. Robert (the cat) launches off its perch, chasing the toy down and very quickly tearing it to shreds, catnip going everywhere. “He’s better than the original Robert because his knives are built right into his paws.”

“Sorry we aren’t all born like Wolverine, Mary.” Robert snaps, squinting defiantly at the cat as he began eating the catnip off of the floor. It is quickly joined by several others who caught a whiff of the herb. 

Vik is eagerly introduced to several other cats, including a fluffy Maine Coon named Princess who liked to be held, and a fat Calico called Susan who nibbled on Vik’s fingers adorably. “I want all of them,” Vik says as Mary leads him from the room.

“But did any of them speak to you?”

“…I don’t think so,” Vik admits, knowing that despite loving them all, he hadn’t felt a special bond with any of them in particular.

“That’s alright. We have more. There’s a few smaller rooms, and then we have the cages here.” She cuts across the hall, opening another door and leading Vik inside. The room had a bunch of stacked cages, all containing cats who were mostly sleeping.

“Hi, Mrs. Christiansen,” a young man wearing the shelter’s t-shirt and a nametag smiles. 

“Hey Louis. You can go ahead and check on the dogs, I’ll finish feeding these guys.” Louis quickly nods and smiles at Vik as he leaves the room. “Sweet enough kid. Him and his sister work here.” She explains, nodding her head towards the cages. “Go ahead.”

Vik looks over the cages, along with the paper attached to each. Names, ages, breeds, health information. An unhappy grey shorthair with a cone around its neck, named Squiggles. The large, white floof of an animal that was Blind Billy. He kept going down the line until he knelt down, spotting one in the back of its cage. A white and tan cat, with a striped tail and plush fur. It looks up at Vik, and he sees that one of its eyes is stitched shut with blue string. The chart says his name is Cody, and he’s around five years old. “Tell me about Cody.”

“Hmm?” Mary comes over to peek, a measuring cup full of kibble in her hand. “Oh, Codes is a shy little sweetheart. There’s this farmer on the edge of town that is constantly accumulating a lot of cats. He doesn’t really own any of them, but he does help trap them so I can get our vet to fix them before releasing them again. More fixed cats lead to less strays.” She shrugs, reaching a finger in past the metal caging so Cody can sniff it. “Cody was one of the newer cats to start hanging around his farm, and he told me he thought he was sick when he brought him in. His eye was crusted shut and infected, and antibiotics didn’t help so the vet decided it would be best to remove it, so the infection wouldn’t spread. He’s also got FIV, but that’s really not a problem.”

“…FIV is like, cat AIDS right?”

“Yeah,” Mary nods. “It just has a very long period before it actually becomes AIDS. Cats with FIV cannot pass it to humans or dogs, and it can only be passed to cats through severe wounds. Cody here had some pretty rough bitemarks in his back and neck we had to treat, so he was probably attacked by an infected cat.” She explains, moving to open the cage door. Cody hesitantly starts his way out, and Vik slowly reaches out his hand for Cody to sniff. “He doesn’t need medicine for it or anything. Not until later in life, anyway. The only real precautions are that you cannot do a raw food diet for him because his immune system is weakened and he can’t handle the bacteria in raw protein, and he shouldn’t go outside at all.”

Vik nods, smiling as Cody’s wet, cold nose presses against his hand as he’s sniffed. Cody tilts his head to nuzzle Vik’s fingers, and he feels himself melt. “I love him.”

“I just want to warn you, cats with FIV often only live about five years after being diagnosed. We can only assume he just got it from the bite marks on him, but we’re not positive. He might live another five years, or only one.”

“That’s okay,” Vik says quickly, scratching the cat’s head. “I mean, I’m assuming cats with FIV are hard to get adopted because of the stigma, right?”

“Yeah, plus a lot of misinformation.”

“So, if I don’t take him home, he’s bound to sit in this cage for a long while.” Mary frowns deeply, and Vik looks back at Cody. “I want him. He deserves a big house to play around in and people to love him.” Vik sucks in a deep breath, reaching up to wipe at his eyes a bit. “Sorry, I’m a huge crybaby.”

“You really are,” Mary says softly, but it sounds affectionate. “Alright, well let me get you a carrier and the paperwork. And we should probably find Robert.” She murmurs, glancing around and realizing that he was nowhere to be found. 

“Maybe someone adopted him.” Vik jokes, smiling a little as Mary fetches a carrier. It takes a little coaxing to get Cody inside, but Mary feeds him a few treats once they get the door shut. Vik carefully carries the cage around as he follows Mary down the halls and back to the lobby. 

“Carrie, there you are,” Mary catches the attention of who Vik assumes is Louis’ sister. “Get Vik here the adoption forms. I have to go hunt down Robert.” 

Carrie smiles warmly and nods, while Vik sets the carrier down on the counter. “Good luck, Mary.”

* * *

“What are you doing?” Mary sighs when she finally locates Robert, in one of the back rooms where they had a few rabbits. He’s sat on the floor, with a small brown bunny settled between his legs. Its little nose twitches as Robert plays with its ears. 

“Is it too late to convince Vik to get a bunny instead?”

“Yes.” Mary snorts, but comes over to sit down next to Robert. She watches him pet the little rabbit, his large hands making it seem so small in comparison. “You could get another pet, though. I’m sure Betsy would love a friend.”

“She likes to chase rabbits,” Robert says with a grimace, scooping up the small bunny in his palm, so gentle like the creature may be made of glass. He raises it high enough to get a good look at its face, and it leans in to sniff his nose. It takes all of Robert’s willpower not to split into a grin and begin cooing. “Plus, I leave cords fucking everywhere, and rabbits like to chew that shit to pieces.”

“You’d have to childproof your house, yeah.” Mary nods, shrugging her shoulders. “I’d help, and I’m sure Vik would as well.”

Robert squints at the rabbit, which was now tickling his fingers with its little nose. “I’ll think about it.” He finally declares, placing his hand on the floor so the bunny could hop off of him. 

“I’ll hold that one for you,” Mary pats Robert on the shoulder softly, smirking. Finally, she pushes herself up from the ground and dusts off her skirt. “Now come on, Vik picked out a cat and he’s probably done filling out the paperwork by now.”

Robert sighs and gives the bunny one last longing glance before getting up and following Mary back to the lobby. He bypasses all of the humans in the room to get a look into the carrier, meeting one single blue eye looking back at him. “Oh shit, dude. Vik, we’re getting your cat an eyepatch.”

Vik laughs a little as he finishes off the last page of the adoption forms, handing them over for Mary to start entering the information into the computer. “His name is Cody.”

“I’m going to send you guys home with a bag of food,” Mary starts, fingers typing away loudly on an old keyboard. “And Vik, I’m going to give you an antibiotic to continue giving to Cody for a few more days. That’s just standard after his surgery.” She looks over to Carrie, quietly asking her to go fetch it, before going back to typing. “His stitches should be ready to come out in about a week and a half, so you’ll have to bring him in for that.”

“Okay,” Vik listens intently, wanting to do right by this cat. He glances over to see Robert still trying to shove his too large fingers through the too small slots of the carrier, while Cody sniffs him. Robert Small, the town badass, had such an adorable soft spot for animals. 

“You all should be good to go,” Mary finally states when she’s done typing. She places Cody’s medicine in a small plastic bag, along with some papers. “Go to the website on the pamphlet in there and enter the code. That’s to register Cody’s microchip, so if he gets lost we can easily look up your information and return him. His rabies tag and papers are in there, too. He’s up to date on all of his shots, so you don’t have to worry about any of those for a while.”

“Thank you so much, Mary.” Vik takes the bag and smiles. “I really did not expect to go home with a cat today.”

Mary salutes to the both of them on their way out, and Vik puts the carrier in his lap once he’s in the truck. “So, pet store next?”

Robert sits there for a long moment, staring back at the animal shelter through the windshield and scowling. 

“What is it?”

“God dammit,” Robert finally heaves a sigh. He opens his door, getting out of the truck again. “I’ll be back. I can’t fucking leave that little baby behind.”

“Did you see a cat you liked?” Vik inquires, tilting his head curiously.

“Not quite.” And with that, Robert Small slams the car door and disappears from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> robert small cant leave that bunny behind tbh
> 
> i know that this fic has been a little light on joseph, so next chapter is going to be about him! vik and joseph are gonna go bowling.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: some wholesome joseph time, some carpool karaoke, joseph being Christian(tm), so many mojitos, some emotional car conversations, and a happy ending(?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good morning my lovely readers!! hope everyone is having/will have a good day! ive got about an hour of free time this morning so i thought id sit down and proofread and code the chapter and get it posted early today. 
> 
> im actually a little sad to post it simply because before this chapter im at _exactly_ 75000 words, and that is so aesthetically pleasing? but also, speaking of word count, jesus christ. this fic is already so long and not much has happened LMAO i just fucking talk too much it seems.
> 
> anyway, on to discussing the chapter. i know i often switch between third person omniscient and third person limited pov, so sorry if thats a little confusing for anyone. but this entire chapter is limited, and purely from joseph's pov! i thought this story was lacking some sweet quality time with joseph tbh. mary has been hogging it all lmaooo (not that im complaining bc i love her so much).
> 
> but ok, im done rambling. 
> 
> cw: theres some drunk driving in this chapter. nothing bad happens and everyone is fine but considering how serious and awful car accidents are, i understand that the scene where theyre driving home might make some people upset or uncomfortable. i am in no way condoning drunk driving in any sense, and i think its awful and just a danger to yourself and others on the road. please drink responsibly, guys. get a taxi, or call a friend, or something.

_Monday, December 18th, 2017_

“I cannot believe Robert bought a bunny.” Joseph deadpans, staring down at his desk and finally smiling. “That is… Kind of adorable?”

“It is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Vik sighs, reaching up to brush his curls back. “He left his leather jacket on the couch yesterday and it just… Fell asleep right on top of it. And Robert took so many pictures.”

Joseph grins so wide his cheeks hurt, shaking his head. “That man is something else…” The mental image of Robert Small with a small rabbit had Joseph practically reeling. It made him think about when Chris was born, and how small he looked in the large man’s arms. The feelings that come with the thought are bittersweet, and make Joseph’s mouth go dry. He sips at his mug of cold coffee, and tries to divert his thoughts. “So, when does Amanda come home?”

“Friday is her last day of classes, so she’ll be home Saturday, and then she’s here until the second.” Joseph has to smile at the way Vik bounces in his seat excitedly. “I’m so ready for her to come home! I’ve sent her countless photos of Cody already, and she’s in love with him.”

Joseph is about to continue when his phone alarm goes off, and he quickly swipes his finger across the screen to silence the loud intrusion. “Wow, that hour went fast…” He sighs, looking back towards Vik. “We won’t be having youth group on Wednesday, since we’re having the rec room repainted.”

“Oh, alright.” Vik replies, gathering up his stuff and making a face. “It’ll be weird having an empty Wednesday night for the first time in forever…”

“Well, I was actually wondering if you’d like to do something.” Joseph tilts his head, and Vik looks at him curiously. “We rarely get to spend time together outside of counseling, so I think a regular outing would be good for us.”

“Alright.” Vik nods, flashing a wide smile. “What’d you have in mind?”

“How do you feel about bowling?”

* * *

_Wednesday, December 20th, 2017_

Joseph patiently sits in his minivan outside of Vik’s house, fingers idly drumming on the steering wheel as he waits. When he sees Vik emerge from the front door, he grins. “Hey!” 

“Hey,” Vik slides into the vehicle eagerly, ready to absorb all the heat coming from the vents, after escaping from the frosty outdoors. He buckles himself in and settles down, looking to Joseph. “I haven’t been bowling in a while, so I’m probably going to be rusty.”

“It’s been a few years for me as well,” Joseph admits with a shrug and turns out of the cul-de-sac, heading towards town. “We can be mediocre together.” 

“Sounds good to me.”

Joseph smiles warmly as he keeps his eyes on the road. He doesn’t mind the silence and lack of small talk, but he does crave a little background noise. He reaches out to turn on the radio, making a face at the host introducing the channel as Radio Disney. “It’s all Christie ever wants to listen to,” Joseph explains as he flips through a few stations until he finds one playing 90s hits.

It remains quiet for a moment as the commercials end, and a song begins. Both men pause at the sound of NSYNC’s classic ‘Bye Bye Bye’ begins, turning for a quick moment to meet eyes. 

“ _I’m doing this tonight_ ,” Vik starts, seemingly a little hesitant. Joseph quickly manages to banish any lack of confidence in Vik when he starts belting along. 

“ _You’re probably gonna start a fight. I know this can’t be right. Hey, baby, come ooooonn._ ” Joseph turns the radio up, causing the walls of the car to pulse with the beat as they scream along gracelessly to the lyrics. “ _I loved you endlessly, and you weren’t there for me. So, now it’s time to leave and make it aloooonee._ ”

“ _I know that I can’t take no more. It ain’t no lie. I wanna see you out that door,_ ” the two quickly turn to look at each other and nod along overzealously to the next lyrics. “ _Baby, bye bye bye!_ ”

“ _Don’t want to be a fool for you, just another player in a game for two. You may hate me but it ain’t no lie. Baby, bye bye bye! Don’t really wanna make it tough, just wanna tell you that I’ve had enough. It may sound crazy but it ain’t no lie. Baby, bye bye bye!_ ” Joseph’s throat hurt a little with the sheer volume the two of them were singing at as he pulled into the bowling alley parking lot. 

The two of them play shitty karaoke through the rest of the song, making overdramatic movements and essentially butchering the song. It was the most fun Joseph had had all month, if not longer, and by the time it was over he couldn’t stop laughing. He turns the radio down so the next song wouldn’t deafen them further, and rests his forehead against the steering wheel as he tries to stifle his giggle fit.

“The 90s were great,” Vik comments as he hugs his mid-section that hurt from laughing too hard. “I mean, there will never be a song as iconic as that one. Except ‘No Scrubs’, anyway.”

“I think the Backstreet Boys are still together,” Joseph comments between giggles, moving to wipe at his eyes where they began to water from his laughter. “Alright, let’s head inside. I reserved a lane for us for two hours.”

The two of them head inside, Joseph talking to the employee behind the counter who confirms his reservation and gives them their lane number and shoes. “You would think that they’d make these things more comfortable.” He comments and grimaces at the bowling shoes, approaching their lane and shedding off his jacket and scarf on the little table and chairs provided. Vik copies his movements, nodding in agreement.

“I want that ball,” Vik says suddenly as he looks to the ball rack, quick to dart over and take a hot pink bowling ball, that was completely coated in glitter. “This is incredible.” Joseph laughs at his choice, choosing a ball for himself that was bright blue. 

Vik programs their names into the leaderboard above head, managing to get ‘Vik’ and ‘Joe’ as their screen names. It makes Vik go first, and he takes a deep breath as he lines up the shot and bowls it. It rolls into the gutter right towards the end, hitting none of the pins. “That was a warm up…” Vik says quickly as his ball is returned to him, picking it up again and aiming. He manages to take out five pins this next roll. 

The game continues like that for a while, the two of them taking turns bowling and exchanging silly banter. There’s no real air of competitiveness to it, not like with Brain. Joseph thought about how eager Brian always was to one-up his grilling skills, and scowls to himself for a moment. Brian didn’t even grill his onions before putting them on a burger. What a disgrace.

Joseph wins this round by a mere two points, and Vik pouts in a way Joseph can’t help but find cute. “We still have an hour and a half. You have time to beat me,” Joseph reminds him with a grin. “We should get some food, though.”

“Bowling alley pizza is always delicious.”

“That’s because it’s ninety-percent grease, and only ten percent actual pizza.” Joseph jokes as the two of them head off to the food counter to order some pizza and two beers. Vik sips at the foam on top of his as the two of them return to the small table by their lane, eating the large, thin slices of pizza off grease-soaked paper plates. “…Can I tell you a slightly inappropriate story?”

“Sure.”

“Back when Robert and I were a thing,” Joseph starts, treading these waters lightly. Vik had reassured him that he was fine with their history, and that it didn’t bother him at all, but Joseph still felt the need to tiptoe around the topic. “We got really drunk one night and he broke us into this bowling alley.”

“No way,” Vik laughs, grinning wide. “So you guys just… Drunk bowled in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah,” Joseph nods, smiling as he remembered the night fondly. He could see the area of ugly, technicolored carpet from where they sat, remembering the sex him and Robert had that night in that very spot, but decided to keep that detail to himself. “Robert went down to the end of a lane where the pins are and tried to crawl back there. His shirt got caught on something and we ended up abandoning it there.”

Vik giggles loudly, taking another sip of his beer. “I’ve always wanted to crawl back there, honestly.”

“Robert said it wasn’t that interesting. It definitely wasn’t worth losing that shirt.” Joseph grins widely, looking back at their lane. “Ready to start another game?”

“Hell yeah.”

* * *

As their two hours dwindled down to mere minutes, the two of them managed to get three more games in. Joseph won two of those games, and Vik was looking a little bitter about it.

“I’m not Brian, Vik.” Joseph reminds him with a gentle clap on the shoulder. “I won’t rub my victory in your face.”

“Augh, don’t remind me of him. God, I hope he never invites me bowling.” Vik reaches up to massage at his own temples. The two of them return to the car and settle down into the seats. It’s silent for a long moment, Joseph noting that it was only a little past eight. “Do you have to go home?”

“Nope.” Joseph quickly shakes his head. “Told Mary I’d be home late, so she roped Lucien into babysitting the kids tonight. I’m all yours for the next few hours.” Joseph wonders if that sounded as suggestive as he thinks it did. Vik doesn’t comment on it if it does, though.

“We should go out and drink, then.” 

“Sounds good to me. Where?” Mary was bound to be at Jim and Kim’s by this hour, and his quality time with Vik would be quickly soured if Mary was around to make him the butt of the joke all night. 

Vik seems to realize this as well, since he doesn’t suggest the local dive bar. “You ever been to a gay club before?”

Joseph arches his brow high on his face, and he isn’t sure if his blush is visible in this low light. “No, I can’t say I have… I’m not… Opposed to going to one, though.”

Vik gives a nod. “I know just the place.”

* * *

 _Oh heavenly father, bless me for I have sinned_. Joseph swallows thickly as Vik grips his hand and pulls him past a group of dancing men, in bright colors and flashy styles, grinding on one another. Joseph makes the shape of a cross over his chest with his free hand as he’s dragged to the bar. He needed to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been clubbing before, even if it had been quite a few years. It did not help that this place was full of attractive men, though. 

“Calm down. Nobody here is going to bite you.” Vik leans in to speak closer to Joseph’s ear, allowing him to hear him over the loud music. Joseph ignores how much he enjoys the feeling of warm breath on his skin. When was the last time he had had sex? It had been a while. _Why are you thinking about that right now?_

The blond takes a moment to suck in a few deep breaths, soothing himself. Vik flags down the bartender, but before he can get a word out, the employee speaks.

“Guy at the end of the bar is covering blondie’s drink.” He states, looking between the two of them. Vik orders them both a mojito to start, before turning to search the end of the bar. 

“You’ve been here for all of a minute and some guy is buying you drink.” Vik laughs, pointing out the man in question to Joseph. Joseph was thankful not to recognize him, but gave him a little nod as a show of thanks. 

“I’m sure guys buy you plenty of drinks.” Joseph finally retorts, looking over at Vik. How could they not? The guy was adorable. Short, and messy haired, with a sweet face and meek demeanor. It was hard not to be fond of him. _Stop._

Vik scoffs, nodding to the bartender in thanks when their glasses are set down, taking a long sip. “Only when I’m with Mary. When I’m alone, I might get one. Probably because Mary is good at drawing everyone’s attention.” 

“That she is.” Joseph nods and pulls the pineapple out of his drink. He moves to set it on a napkin, and Vik looks at him questioningly. “I’m not a big fan.”

“Oh my god.” Vik places a hand over his chest like he’s offended, before he reaches over to snatch up the rum soaked pineapple and begin eating it. “How did Robert even give you a second glance if you don’t like pineapple?”

“I pretended I liked it for the first four months of us dating.”

“ _No way._ ”

“Yup.” Joseph snorts, remembering when he had finally confessed his dislike of pineapple to the other man. Robert didn’t trust any of his food choices for months after that. 

The idle chatter mixed with the loud music and drinks that came and went quickly lead to Joseph feeling pretty foggy in the brain but still giddy. “We should dance.” When was the last time he really let go and just danced? It had been a while. 

“Okay.” Vik grins in agreement, knocking back the rest of whatever it was he was drinking now. Rum and coke? Joseph hadn’t been paying attention to the bartender much, except when he was told someone else had bought him a drink. That was four in total, now. 

“I’m having the strangest sense of déjà vu.” Vik jokes as the two of them encroach on one another’s personal space on the dancefloor. Where was Joseph supposed to put his hands? “Jesus is cuming, Joseph.”

“I don’t think the lawnmower would be as big of a hit here.” Joseph laughs, cheeks flushed as he finally settles on holding Vik’s upper hips. It doesn’t take the two of them long to copy the rhythm of those around them, bodies moving together in time. The alcohol certainly helped, warming his body to what appeared to be its melting point. At least, he felt like liquid as the two of them swayed together in such a relaxed and comfortable motion that Joseph was sure no part of him could possibly be solid anymore.

They didn’t return to the bar until both of them were moist with sweat, quick to shuffle out of their excess clothing like scarves and sweaters. “I’m going to run to the restroom.” Joseph told Vik quickly, the other nodding, before he departed. 

The public restroom is a monstrosity, to put it lightly. Joseph is relatively sure the grunting coming from the handicapped stall is far from innocent, and the place is littered with graffiti and used paper towels. He minds his feet as he makes his way to a urinal, freeing himself from his pants and sighing.

He shakes off before tucking himself away and quickly washes his hands. There’s no visible trash can, so he reluctantly places his paper towel into the growing pile under the sinks. He returns to the bar to find Vik chatting with some guy. 

“Is that so?” Vik sounds bored, sipping at his drink and not looking at the guy. “Mmhmm,” he nods as the other continues to overenthusiastically attempt to impress him. It’s almost pitiful to watch, and even Vik looks a little guilty when the guy doesn’t immediately take the hint. “I have a boyfriend, sorry.”

“Oh.” The guy glances away, mulling that over. “…You look pretty alone to me.”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Vik seems to be growing increasingly uncomfortable, and Joseph finally shakes himself out of his stupor enough to reclaim his bar stool and quickly drape an arm over Vik’s shoulders protectively. “I’m back, honey.” _This is totally innocent. Just helping his friend out, right?_

Vik is quick to smile and lean back into the embrace. “Told you.” He said, returning his gaze to the guy who was looking a little miffed. The two of them watch him scurry off to bother some other lonely looking man at the bar, and Vik heaves a sigh. “I was trying to be nice, but jeez. He was being such an asshole about it, too.” He turns in Joseph’s grasp, peering up at him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Joseph shrugs and takes the fresh drink the bartender sets in front of him. It isn’t until Vik begins squirming a little that he realizes he’s still holding the other. “O-oh, sorry.” Joseph laughs it off, retracting his arm and turning his red cheeks the opposite direction of Vik’s line of sight. _What are you doing?_

That thought swam around Joseph’s inebriated brain for the next few minutes, occasionally stealing glances towards Vik. The colorful lights of the club caused little flashes of green and blue to reflect in the other’s hair and the lenses of his glasses. Something about it was far more mesmerizing than it should be, and Joseph tries to blame the sense of awe on all of the alcohol in his system. It had nothing to do with the weird half-crush, half-spite combination of feelings he had for Vik. Just the large amounts of tequila and rum congregating in his stomach in a warm concoction of courage, haze, and delirium. 

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and fights with the fabric of his slacks to free it from its confines. He nearly drops it twice, but soon enough manages to get a good grip on it and look at the screen. A text from his nephew.

Lucien: if you or auntie don’t come home soon i'm going to wake the twins up to watch horror movies.   
Lucien: i am literally so bored.   
Lucien: am i getting paid for this?

Joseph takes a moment to read the texts, having to reread them a few times to even comprehend half of what was said. He shakily starts texting back, squinting in frustration at each typo he had to correct. 

Joseph: 30 minutess   
Joseph: Yes $$$$

_Good enough._

“We should head home.” Joseph tells Vik, showing him his phone and pointing to the time. Quarter until eleven. How had so much time passed so quickly? Joseph was beginning to feel like these kinds of clubs exist on a different plane of reality where time moves in weird increments, morals are skewed, and all of the men who enter become more attractive.

Vik looks a little surprised for a moment, as if he didn’t understand why it being almost eleven constituted them having to leave. Joseph guessed it made sense, considering Vik seemed to spend most of his drinking time with Mary, and she never got home until well past midnight. _If_ she came home, that was. There had been half a dozen times in the last few months where she hadn’t, and Joseph would panic with nervous thoughts of her being lost or getting kidnapped until he finally realized he had a text on his phone from Vik confirming she was asleep next door. Finding the text always came with a weird mix of relief and jealousy. He knew that even at her drunkest, Mary could very well walk next door and crawl into her own bed. She just didn’t want to. 

Joseph insists they go fifty/fifty on the tab, despite most of the cost being Vik’s drinks. Joseph had lucked out with a handful of other patrons who thought him worth buying a drink for. He thinks that maybe forking out some of the money makes Vik feel bad, and if he were right enough in the mind to try and psychoanalyze that, he would. The soberer part of his brain managed something about adding insult to injury, but he didn’t get much further than that. 

Even with wrapping up in his winter coat and jacket, the rush of icy cold air when they get outside nearly knocks Joseph on his ass. He sucks in a deep breath, instantly reminded of the cooling sensation of freshly brushed teeth or vapor rub on his chest when he was sick. He makes a beeline for his car, and Vik gives him a face.

“You definitely can’t drive, Joseph.”

“It’s way too cold to walk.”

“We’ll call an Uber or something.” Vik insists, but follows Joseph to the car anyway. Joseph is quick to start it, fully focused on turning the heat on and aiming the vents at his own face. He sighs, absorbing the warmth. 

“I feel fine,” Joseph finally insists, looking to Vik. “I think the cold air literally drained the alcohol out of me.” He jokes, laughing a little. He buckles himself in, and Vik hesitates for a long moment before doing the same.

“If you swerve, even a little, we’ll pulling over.” He warns, hands shaking in his lap. Joseph aims one of the vents in his direction, unaware that the shivering was not so much caused by the cold as it was nerves. In the back of Joseph’s mind, a thought reminded him that Vik’s husband had died in a car accident, but it’s like his brain couldn’t quite process that in its current state.

“I drive better when I’m drunk.” Joseph tries to joke, putting the van in reverse and backing out of his spot. He doesn’t come close to hitting any of the other vehicles in the parking lot, so he considers it a success. It was only a fifteen-minute drive home, and it was all thirty mile-per-hour stretches of road, divided by countless stop lights. They’d be fine. 

When Joseph makes it past the first two stop lights, and even brakes on time when stopped by the third, Vik seems to relax a little. “Told you,” Joseph informs him, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He does reach over to crack the window a bit, hoping the cold air will keep him alert. The heat from the vents was heavenly, but it was lulling him back into an almost sleepy daze and that would not do well while behind the wheel. 

“I cannot believe we are doing this. Do you know how many lectures I’ve given Amanda about never getting in the car with a drunk driver? That if she needed a ride, to call me? How many times I told her that I wouldn’t be mad at her for drinking, but I’d be so mad if she got hurt for making such a stupid decision? And yet, here I am.”

“It’s easier to give advice than it is to follow it.” Joseph retorts, and Vik seems to think that over.

“That feels like the story of my life.”

Joseph didn’t think he could do emotions right now. He was already trying so hard to focus on the speedometer to make sure he isn’t going too fast. He had talked his way out of a speeding ticket once before, but he had been far more sober and Robert had been there. 

“One time,” he starts, hoping to distract Vik from his own nervous energy. “Robert and I were coming back from a camping trip together, and we were both drunk. We were taking turns driving, since neither of us could keep it up for more than half an hour at a time. 

“We were driving down some long stretch of road that was so empty I felt like nobody even knew it existed. Except, there happened to be a cop just chilling in his car on the side of the road, parked behind a tree. When I saw him, I panicked. Robert reminded me that I wasn’t speeding, and that it’d be fine. Except, then, just to spite us, the cop pulled onto the road and put on his siren.

“I pull over, and Robert and I fumble around until we find this pack of expired mints under his seat, and I shoved way too many into my mouth. It tasted disgusting, but all you could smell was artificial mint gum. 

“So, the cop comes up to the window and I roll it down, and ask the officer what the problem was. And he’s really snoopy looking, just peering around the inside of Robert’s truck like he was trying to find something wrong with it. 

“He starts asking us questions, like where we’re going and where we’re coming from, et cetera. We tell him we were out camping for the weekend and we’re on our way home. There’s camping supplies in the truck bed, so he can’t really argue with our story. It was true, after all. By this time, my mouth is literally burning from the amount of mints in it. I could almost feel the sugar turning into cavities on my teeth.

“We think the cop is finally going to leave when he suddenly asks for license and registration. I get out my wallet and Robert hands the guy the oldest piece of paper I’ve ever seen, covered in stains. Turns out its his registration, and I’m sitting there thinking about how fucked we are. This cop could totally see that we were both drunk, and was just dragging out the inevitable.

“He finally goes back to his car to enter the information we gave him, and I just stare at Robert because it’s not like I know how to get out of trouble. And Robert simply tells me that I’m too pretty to go to jail. By this time, I’m freaking out. Mary was several months pregnant, and I was just imagining not being able to hold my child because I was in jail.

“The cop finally comes back, and gives us back our stuff right, and he looks at me and is just, ‘so, you’re a preacher, huh?’ I have no idea where that came from, right. And I wasn’t a preacher, but I certainly nodded. We spend the next twenty minutes discussing bible passages, and I manage to convince him that I have my own church. He totally buys it, and when he finally leaves us, he just asks if I could ask my Sunday mass to keep his sick wife in their prayers. I told him that I would absolutely do so, and he lets us go.”

The story manages to take up a large part of the drive home, and Vik seems far more relaxed. He’s smiling a little, shaking his head. “Did you tell the church to pray for his wife?”

“Oh yeah. Made it sound like he was a friend of mine from out of town. I look him up on Facebook every great once in a while. His wife, her cancer is in remission now, and he’s retired, so the two of them take a lot of vacations together. Last I checked, they were in Hawaii.”

“I’m so happy for them.” Vik says softly, and Joseph nods in agreement. He was too. “Sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that happy endings exist.” 

Joseph doesn’t expect him to say that, and muses over those words as he turns a corner. It’s a little sharp, but he doesn’t hit the curb, so Vik doesn’t seem to notice. Joseph hasn’t thought about happy endings since he was a child, and his grandmother would read him fairytales. At that time, he had thought that his parents were getting their happy ending. When he had grown old enough to realize just how much his parents hated each other though, he had sworn to himself that he’d never be like them. 

_“It’s easier to give advice than it is to follow it.”_

His face turns down in a grimace. “Do they really, though?”

“What?”

“Do happy endings really exist?” Joseph inquires, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he stares straight ahead at the road. He was about to pass the church, and then a small bridge that crested a river, and then he would be in the cul-de-sac. “The story ends when you die, right? And dying isn’t happy. It’s awful, and it leaves the other people around you sad. So, what constitutes a happy ending?”

Vik frowns at that, watching as Joseph stops at a sign. He doesn’t continue driving though, needing a moment to calm down before going on. “The story doesn’t end when you die, Joseph. It’s not black and white like that, at all. Stories are abstract, and there’s so many ways for them to be told.”

Vik adjusts in his seat, turning to face Joseph fully. The moon is bright tonight, and Joseph silently admires the blocks of white light illuminating Vik’s features. The leftover shadows make his features look so much sharper than they actually are, and Joseph resists the urge to smooth them out with his fingers. 

“I think an ending is happy when there’s nothing left unsaid. When all involved parties are comfortable with where they are. Hell, I didn’t want to start talking about Alex because I will cry but—” Vik pauses, and Joseph sees the muscles of his neck contract as he swallows down the growing lump in his throat. “If you look at his story, and you just look at his death, of course you’d assume it was a bad ending. He was only thirty-five, and died suddenly. It would seem cruel and awful and in a way, it is. But his death isn’t the focal point of his story, at all.

“Alex and I got together when we were sixteen, and we got married when we were twenty. We were married for sixteen years, and we had a beautiful baby girl and we were happy. Alex worked hard, and even when I knew he was so, so tired, he’d come home, and he’d smile and spend time with Amanda and I because we were the reason he worked so hard.

“He played the guitar, and he loved to sing. He wouldn’t smoke anything besides New Port menthols, and lavender was his favorite candle scent. His favorite food was mac n cheese with hot sauce, and he kept the same holey, worn pair of boxers for years because he swore they were lucky. 

“Reducing someone’s story to their death is like disregarding the entire life they lead. His death wasn’t happy, but his life was. He had a happy ending. Nothing was perfect and there were plenty of times he struggled, but he was happy. 

“So, yeah. To answer your question Joseph, I think happy endings exist. It’s easy to forget that sometimes, especially when the world feels like its dead set against you having one. But they do, and it won’t be easy to achieve one, but it’s possible.”

Joseph stares at Vik for a long moment, watching a small tear roll down Vik’s cheek. The light of the moon almost makes the moisture glow against the other’s pallid skin. He suddenly feels like he’s in one of Robert’s old black and white movies, the way the moonlight washes out all the colors. 

“…When all parties are comfortable, and there’s nothing left unsaid?”

“Yeah.”

Joseph sighs after a long moment. “I have a long road ahead of me, then.” 

He finally starts driving again, the sudden movement of the van startling Vik. Joseph murmurs a quick apology as he drives them over the small bridge and down into the circle, passing Hugo’s, Damien’s, and Robert’s houses before pulling into his own driveway. He hisses a bit as he manages to brake just before hitting the back of Mary’s Mustang, and he wonders why she didn’t put it in the garage like she normally did. 

“That was a lot of fun.” Joseph manages, hoping to save the night. Once they’re out of the van, they loop around to meet around the front. “I’m sorry things got weird for a few minutes there.”

“That wasn’t weird.” Vik tilts his head a little, smiling in a way that made Joseph feel simultaneously relaxed and apprehensive all at once. It had to be all the alcohol in his system, making Vik seem so captivating. _Keep telling yourself that._ “I think conversations like that are good. They’re part of the whole, ‘not leaving anything left unsaid’ thing.” 

Joseph isn’t sure how to feel about that. It wasn’t the first time he had had conversations like that, considering they used to be Robert’s forte at three in the morning when they were both trying to sober up. He was sure that Robert was a human that left more things unsaid than anything else, but then again, look what state that put him in. He huffs, his drunk brain struggling to process the deep thoughts.

“Would you like to come in for a few minutes?” Joseph finally offers up, and Vik gives a nod. The two make their way inside, to find Lucien sprawled out on the couch. The room is pitch black save for the paused television screen and the light from the teen’s cell. He’s texting, fast. Joseph never understood how youths could move their thumbs with such speed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Lucien replies in his usual monotone, not bothering to look up at Joseph. “Kids are asleep. Crish got a bath, too.”

“Thank you. I don’t have any cash on me right now, but I’ll stop by the ATM tomorrow after work and get your money.” Lucien simply raises himself to his feet, and Joseph quietly wonders when he got so tall. He remembers when Lucien was just a kid. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or just the words he and Vik exchanged, but Joseph gently claps Lucien on the shoulder as he walks by. “Lucien, I don’t think I tell you enough how much I appreciate everything you do. You’re a good kid.”

Lucien arches a brow at that, seemingly caught off guard. “…Uh, thanks. You’re… Not too uncool for an adult.” Joseph beams, like that’s the best compliment he’s ever received. Lucien is quick to scurry from the house, while Joseph just grins like an idiot and looks to Vik.

“Hear that? I’m not uncool.”

Vik laughs like he doesn’t believe it, but Joseph doesn’t argue the point further. He fetches them both some water and they settle down on the couch. “What was he watching?”

Vik unpauses the television, and it continues to play… A documentary about whales. Joseph laughs at that, and Vik joins him after a moment. “I can’t trust anything that large,” Vik confesses, looking towards Joseph. “A whale’s heart is like, twice my size. It’s impossible to trust anything that could swallow me whole by accident.”

Joseph isn’t sure why, but he finds that hysterical. He laughs to the point of tears, a hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his laughter. His children were asleep, after all. “Any other irrational animal fears I should know about?”

Vik hesitates for a moment. “I’m terrified of birds.”

“Birds? Why?”

“I’ve had several bad experiences.” Vik admits, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. God, that was so cute. _Stop thinking things like that_. “When I was younger, I went on a field trip to a farm and we all got a handful of chicken feed to feed to the chickens. I was wearing thick winter gloves, too. All of the other kids had no issues, but the chicken pecked me so hard through my glove I started bleeding.”

“And that’s why you’re scared?”

“That’s not the _only_ reason,” Vik crosses his arms, pouting and not meeting Joseph’s eyes. “Once, at a Christmas party when I was around ten, I had another bad experience. A friend of my dad’s was a bird enthusiast, and had a couple large parrots. I thought they were pretty, and he asked if I wanted to hold one. I was super excited. Anyway, he tells me that the bird is harmless and won’t hurt me, right? So he’s holding this parrot, who was named Cosmo, and tells me to hold out a finger for it to stand on. I do so, and hold it out to the bird, expecting it to step onto my finger. It leans down and just, chomps down on it. I was bleeding everywhere, and he was so confused because his bird had never bit anyone before.”

“Oh my god,” Joseph covers his mouth again, trying to hold back another round of laughter. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” He tries to tell Vik, who is looking more embarrassed by the minute. “I’m laughing at how downright adorable you are.” Why did you say that?

Vik snorts, and even tilts his head. “Well, thanks, but that doesn’t make me feel better. Now I’m going to have nightmares about that fucking parrot. And whales, too, if we keep watching this documentary.”

Joseph laughs and moves to grab the remote, flipping through a few channels. The two of them finally settle on watching The Breakfast Club, even though it’s half way into the movie. “I hate this movie, because every time I watch it I spend days wondering if they all kept their promise to stay friends.”

Joseph arches a brow as he settles down into the cushions. “I’d like to think they did.”

“So would I, but… Well. It’s easier to give advice than it is to listen to it.”

Joseph nods in silent agreement, and ignores the way his heart flutters when Vik’s head rests on his shoulder. 

When was he going to get his own happy ending?

He wasn’t sure if he deserved one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this has nothing to do with the chapter, but im listening to this song right now called broken by lovelytheband, and it makes me think of young mary and joseph when they first met, so you all should listen when you get a chance. (if yall ever want more song recommendations just let me know even in the comments tbh i will spam you with some new music that reminds me of these babies)
> 
> next weeks chapter will involve amanda's winter break! ill attempt to fit it all in one chapter, but idk. lmao for anyone else theyd be like "so in 5-7k just write the whole break? easy enough" but like? yall have read my story. you guys realize i can type out several thousand words over a ten minute conversation if left unchecked.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains: a guitar, a christmas eve party at the church, jesus christ himself, and joseph beating himself up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i need to like. apologize to jesus christ directly. im so sorry jesus? 
> 
> there is a part of this chapter that i think can be offensive to some ppl so like. if the idea of jesus being sexualized bothers you im sorry and you can skip from "Vik is about to inquire just how much she’s had to drink" to the next section divider. 
> 
> otherwise, enjoy this you sinning fucks. were in this together.

_Saturday, December 23rd, 2017_

Mary was relatively sure that Vik’s nervous energy was going to choke her to death if he kept it up. She’s quick to duck down into the basement for a moment of peace, sorting through the basket of dirty laundry in her arms and throwing some darks into the wash. She also took her time folding the things coming out of the dryer, leaving them on one of the tables in the basement. 

Vik had called her earlier that morning, a frazzled mess, rambling about how Amanda would freak if she saw how messy he had let the house become. Before she knew it, she was pulling her hair up into a sloppy bun and throwing on some comfy clothes to come help Vik clean. The place wasn’t _that_ bad, but it was a little concerning that Robert now kept cleaner quarters than Vik did.

To be fair, Robert’s house used to be literally filthy. Trash everywhere, mold growing in the sink, and occasionally Mary would find insects in his bathroom. Vik’s place was just disorganized, more than anything. He had more clothes than any human needed, and only half of them seemed to even fit him. She really should help him clean out his closet. Or his whole house, for that matter. From the look of the boxes in the basement, he never even finished unpacking in the first place.

She sighs and makes her way over to the mountain of stray boxes, eyeing a dusty guitar case leaned up against the wall under the stairs. Vik didn’t play, did he? She carefully pulls it away, coughing a little as dust stirs, and lays it flat on the ground. She unbuckles the latches and opens it, eyebrows raising. A shiny, dark green Washburn acoustic. Mary didn’t know too much about instruments, except for one conversation she had with Mat a while back, but she thought it looked pricey. The longer she examined it, the more she noticed. Little bumps in the wood around some of the edges, and a few noticeable scratches in the paint. It looked like it had gotten a lot of use.

She jumps a little at the creak of the basement stairs, briefly wondering if Vik will be upset over her snooping. She’d always been too curious for her own good, but y’know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back. That kind of hokey nonsense. 

“Sorry,” she starts when she sees Vik pause. “I saw the case and got curious.”

“It’s alright,” Vik replies, but his eyes say the opposite. Mary felt guilty, despite steeling her own expression. She wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

She carefully puts the guitar back in the case and closes it. “Do you play?”

“No.” Vik replies, coming over to take the case and neatly lean it back against the wall. He uses his sleeve to carefully wipe away all of the dust on its surface, and Mary almost scolds him for dirtying his shirt. That probably wouldn’t go over too well, considering he already seemed upset with her. Mom instincts die hard, it seems. 

She drops the topic, getting back up to her feet and going back to the plastic folding table Vik had set up by the washer and dryer. “We should go through your clothes sometime. Half of this stuff is too big on you.” She points out, plucking up a worn t-shirt. At some point the design on it had been black, but after years of use and washing, it had faded to a paling grey. “You wear what, a medium? A large? This is a 2X. Even if you sleep in it, there’s holes in the pits and some weird stain on the back. It’s trash, Vik.”

Vik turns to watch her for a moment, and Mary finds herself even more confused. Was he really that upset over her looking at a random guitar collecting dust in his basement? He comes over, taking the shirt from her, and holding it to his chest. “I’m not getting rid of it.”

“Why?”

“It’s not mine to get rid of.”

“Vik, whoever it is, I’m sure they probably would tell you to throw it away.” Vik stares at her for a moment, and fuck. Fuck, is he crying? Oh god. Mary had seen many people cry in her life, some of which she had even laughed at, but damn if it didn’t feel downright awful to be the source of one of her friend’s sadness. “Hey, hey. Look, you don’t have to get rid of the shirt. We’ll go through your clothes some other time, it’s fine.”

“No, no, you’re right.” Vik manages as Mary sits him down in one of the few mismatching chairs left in the basement due to lack of space upstairs. She kneels in front of him, hands resting on his knees as she looked up at him. “He’d want me to get rid of it but… I can’t. Every time I try to get rid of it, I just think of all the times I saw him in the kitchen, making breakfast in this shirt. Hell, he was wearing it the morning of the day he died. Amanda accidentally tripped and spilled her juice all over the back of it. I remember him trying to change while I cleaned the sugar off his back…”

Vik hiccups, and Mary suddenly feels like the biggest idiot in the world. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Vik used to be married, and used to have an entirely different life than the one he has here. 

“He loved this shirt, so I promised him I’d get the stain out for him by the time he got home from his business meeting the next day…” Mary sees Vik’s hands tighten around the fabric, knuckles showing white through his skin. “I soaked it and scrubbed it and ran it through the wash once, but it was still there. I told myself that I’d try some other stuff later, but I had a play at Amanda’s school to go to and… And when I got home and Alex wasn’t answering my texts or calls I was so worried I forgot about it. And then… When I got the news I… I didn’t think about the shirt for days. It sat for too long and even now when I wash it I try to get the stain out and I _can’t._ ”

“Hey, shhh.” Mary starts, hands gently cupping around Vik’s shaking ones. She wasn’t sure if it was comforting or not, but Vik seems to appreciate the gesture all the same. “I don’t think he’d be too upset about the stain.”

“…No, I don’t think he would be either.” He finally admits, sniffling a little. He swallows thickly and audibly, and Mary strokes her thumb over the side of his hand. 

“Is the guitar his?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry I touched it.”

“It’s okay.” Vik shakes his head, moving his hands. Mary goes to pull hers back, but Vik just moves his to grip onto hers gently. “I think I was more upset over the fact that it was so dusty. He’d want it to get used… But I can’t read music to save my life, no matter how hard I try. And Amanda won’t even touch the case.”

Mary makes a face, unsure what she could say in this sort of situation. “What about Mat?” She suddenly blurts, and Vik meets her eyes with a soft gaze. “I mean, you two are close and he takes really good care of his instruments.” _And he knows what you’re going through_ , Mary thinks but doesn’t say aloud. 

“…I think that’d be a really good idea.” Vik finally nods, taking a deep breath to further steady himself. Mary reaches up to use her own sleeve to wipe the drying tears off Vik’s cheeks. “I’ll have to ask Panda how she feels about it, though. God, what time is it? She’s going to be here soon and I still have to do the dishes and put her fresh sheets on her bed and—”

“Alright, alright. Come on.” Mary stands, and helps pull Vik to his feet. “I’ll get the sheets on her bed, you do dishes. We’ll go from there.”

* * *

When they hear the car pull into the drive, Mary pushes the curtain aside to peek out the front window. Sure enough, it was Amanda’s car. She wordlessly wonders if that used to be Alex’s as well, while Vik rushes outside, barefoot and in the snow, to hug his daughter. “Your toes are going to fall off!” Mary yells after him, but he doesn’t seem to hear her.

She grins and gives Amanda a little salute when the girl enters the living room and drops all of her bags on the floor. Vik is trailing behind her as if he’s worried she’ll suddenly disappear at any given moment. It’s endearing, but also sickeningly mushy. 

“Hey, Mrs. Christiansen! How are you doing?”

“Kid, never call me that ever again.” Mary rolls her eyes. “It reminds me that I’m married. Just Mary is fine. As for how I’m doing, can’t complain.” She couldn’t. Vik had broken out a bottle of red for her, and despite their somber morning, things were going nicely. “How’s college treating you?” Kid looked tired, if Mary was being honest. 

“Good.” Amanda grins a little, plopping down on the couch and melting into the cushions. “Oh my god, I missed this couch so much.”

“I missed the dent you used to leave in it,” Vik jokes, reaching over to ruffle Amanda’s hair gently. She doesn’t bat his hand away, but she does give him a side-eye for messing up her bangs. It’s so adorably domestic that Mary almost understands what Robert means when he says Vik did everything right with his kid. 

“Alright, but enough couch.” Amanda says suddenly, jumping to her feet. “Where is the cat? I need to officially meet Cody.”

“Come on. He’s sleeping on my bed.” Vik gets up and is quick to usher Amanda down the hallway and out of sight.

* * *

_Sunday, December 24th, 2017_

Every year, the Sunday before Christmas, the church was beyond packed. Hell, even Robert showed up anually and hung out in the back to say some prayers and try to avoid the donation basket being passed around. Mary never could get over how bizarre it was, seeing so many familiar faces gathered here when half of them didn’t step into the church more than twice a year. 

Her row alone was jam packed, with Crish on her lap, Chris squished against her one side, and Damien against the other. Her parents, Joseph’s, all of the kids, and Vik and Amanda, all shoved into one of the long benches in the nave. It was undeniably hot, too. It was freezing outside, so the heat was blasting and with everyone crowded so close together, it was becoming very uncomfortable very fast.

Mary turns in her seat to get a better look at the turnout, not too interested in whatever Pastor Dave was rambling about. Something about last year’s Christmas party. She was far more interested in what was happening in the quiet seats around her. Behind her sat several of her neighbors, including Hugo, some of Hugo’s extended family, Ernest, and Hugo’s ex. What the fuck was his name again? Mary couldn’t remember, but she was pretty sure he was named after one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Donatello, maybe? 

Craig’s ex, Ashley, was also present. She sat in a row across from them, with River cooing softly in her lap. Despite being forty, Ashley had a headful of dyed purple hair and countless piercings. She didn’t remember it being a messy divorce, but hell if she knew what happened behind Craig’s closed doors. They didn’t look too uncomfortable, though. 

Mat was there with a few of his own family members, and Carmensita was impatiently swinging her legs in her seat. The girl liked church from what Mary could tell, but she had a lot of energy to burn and sitting still this long wasn’t easy. At least she wasn’t prone to lighting things on fire like Ernest. Mary would find it funny if it wasn’t her problem to help fix it when Ernest destroyed some part of the church.

Brian was behind them with the Vega’s, with little Daisy seated quietly next to him. No extended family this year, just like every other. Mary’s curiosity about that subject burned bright, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask. 

Perhaps even more surprising was the family on the other side of Craig, the Smalls. Robert usually came to this mass, but he certainly never dressed up for it. Freshly shaved, hair slicked back, and clothes that looked freshly ironed and appropriate for the setting. Next to him sat Val, another woman Mary didn’t recognize, and a man that Mary had only ever seen in pictures. Robert’s father. _Holy shit._

She quickly digs out her phone, using Crish’s head as a chin rest while she peers downwards and typs out a series of messages. She could hear Vik’s phone vibrate in his pocket from where she sat, and he hesitantly gave it a peek before looking at her questioningly.

Mary: Vik look at the row next to us.   
Mary: Past Craig’s family.   
Vik: Oh wow Robert looks so good   
Vik: Is he wearing a blazer oh my god   
Vik: He’s so hot   
Mary: Vik, stop having sinful thoughts in church this instant and LISTEN TO ME.   
Mary: Past Robert and Val, the old guy.   
Mary: That’s Robert’s dad.   
Vik: Oh god I’m gonna have to meet him aren’t I?   
Mary: Considering Robert and you are a thing, probably.   
Vik: What if he doesn’t like me???   
Mary: Well, his brother is a hit man, so he’ll probably get rid of you.   
Vik: That’s not funny   
Mary: I wasn’t joking.

Mary tucks her phone away, leaving Vik to steam in his own nerves for a little while. He’s fidgeting in his seat, peeking over towards Robert’s dad every few moments. Mary almost felt bad.

Almost.

* * *

The usual preparations for tonight’s Christmas dance were going as planned, at least. Mary looked over her clipboard again, checking off things that were ready. The nave was decorated, along with the rec room. Tables were set up, all of the Christmas trees were in place, the DJ was confirmed for the night. It was all shaping up to be a swell evening that she may or may not remember depending on how much spiked eggnog she indulged in. 

She steps out of the rec room, deciding she needed a break. There were a few other members of their congregation milling about the hallway. Some wave as Mary passes them, and she gives them half-hearted nods more-so for the sake of appearance than actual politeness. The deeper she went into the church, the less populated it got. Soon enough she was wandering through empty halls, silent besides the sound of her pumps clicking against the hard floors. 

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it when she found herself outside of Joseph’s office. She hadn’t left the rec room with a destination in mind, but she certainly hadn’t intended on ending up here. At least Joseph usually kept alcohol in his office. She opens the door to find the light on, but nobody in sight. She steps inside and pauses, arching her brow at the life-size carving of Jesus on the cross that was along the back wall. The thing had been donated a good ten years ago to the church, and they broke it out every Christmas. A quick glance-over makes it clear as to why it was not in view of the public. 

“Martha had her husband Harrison hide it in here.” Joseph’s voice comes from behind her, and she turns to watch him enter the office. He came to stand next to her, eyes trailing downward on the statue. “I suspect this is Ernest’s handiwork. Not sure how, though. You have to be eighteen to purchase something like that, correct?”

“Nah,” Mary replies, shaking her head. “If you buy it online, they don’t check your age. Bet he used Hugo’s credit card. Or he found it hidden in his room.” She cracks a grin, cackling. She is genuinely surprised when Joseph snickers a bit as well, quickly trying to compose himself.

“Mary, I haven’t a clue how to tell Hugo about this.”

“Well…” Mary starts, shrugging. “You could ask if he’s missing a humongous purple dildo and a lot of superglue?” Her eyes trail lower on the statue, where the large silicone phallus has been sloppily glued to Jesus’ groin. “I’m not the judgmental type or nothing, but. That thing is almost the size of a baby. I have pushed numerous children out of my vagina. I cannot imagine trying to shove one back in.”

“It does look like it would be… Rather painful? Maybe it is more of a… Knickknack sort of… Object.”

“A knickknack?”

“A dickknack.” Mary cannot help but laugh a little at her husband’s joke, making a face. He was being less insufferable than usual, which was odd. Part of her wanted to be suspicious, but part of her just didn’t have the energy to do so anymore. 

“Alright, so life-size Jesus is a bust.” Mary finally declares, holding her hands up in a way that says ‘what can you do?’ “S’not so bad. I mean, all the kids would just take pictures with it while flipping the bird or picking his nose anyway. Don’t wanna know what kind of pictures we’d get if we put this thing out in its current state.”

“I would lose my job.”

“Oh yeah.” Mary nods, snorting and crossing her arms across her chest. “How’d Joseph get fired? Well, he simply loved Jesus in all the wrong ways.”

“ _Mary_ ,” Joseph bites his lip, taking a deep breath. “I am not even going to comment on that. I have nothing to say.” She was genuinely joking around with him. It felt so odd but so very familiar all at once. She hadn’t had such a carefree conversation with him in so long.

Mary smirks for a long moment, before giving a look around the office. “So, where do you hide the booze? Don’t leave me hangin’, Joey.”

And there it was. The reason Mary was visiting his office at all. Joseph grimaces, but goes around his desk to the filing cabinet next to his chalkboard. He unlocks the bottom drawer with his key, producing a bottle of wine and setting it on his desk. “Every year I get my hopes up that we can make it through this event without you getting drunk and making a scene. And every year I am disappointed.” 

Mary lets out a hard sigh, having expected this. Things were going too smoothly between her and her husband. “Complain all you want, honey. You’re the one who gave me the bottle.”

* * *

The nave is full of people in festive attire, and each row of benches is adorned with tinsel. At the front, on the small stage, actors in costumes are entertaining a few children. It was a little silly to see Santa Claus standing next to Jesus Christ, but oh well. The kids were either too young or didn’t care enough to wonder why this was happening. 

There are a few signs redirecting people from the nave and into the rec room right down the hall. Every wall is covered in decorations, ranging from plastic snowflakes to fairy lights to fake snow dust. This had taken a lot of work, and Vik silently wonders what poor person got stuck cleaning this stuff up once the holiday was over.

The rec room was a little over half full of people, adults chatting and children dancing around amongst themselves. Christmas music plays softly in the background, something newer. Probably a cover by one of the more popular artists of the year or something. He’s not the only one who notices this, apparently, since Robert is suddenly at his side and rambling. 

“How many covers of Santa Baby can be made before it’s enough?” Robert inquires, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I like Ariana Grande as much as the next guy, but this is ridiculous.”

“…Who is Ariana Grande?”

Robert deadpans, side-eyeing Vik for a long moment. “You’re serious?”

“Who is she?”

“I’m not having this conversation.” 

Vik pouts, rolling his eyes. Robert could be so ridiculous sometimes.

* * *

“No, no, no. That’s so not how it happened at all!” Craig objects, waving his hand a bit to get everyone’s attention. “Yes, I divebombed the beer-pong table from the second-floor balcony. That totally happened. I broke my wrist. But the frat guys didn’t kick my ass that night.”

“Yes, they did.” Vik arches his brow. “Craig, you were smashed. I can’t believe you even remember jumping off the balcony.”

“It’s hazy but it’s there, bro. But like, the frat dudes beat me up that other time when we broke into Sigma Chi in broad daylight.”

“…Oh, oh yeah.” Vik makes a face, remembering how awful that had been. “They threw you over the fence and your pants got caught. I spent like an hour trying to free you before you just ditched your pants altogether.” 

Craig snorts, giving a nod. “Wasn’t the only time I walked back to my dorm half-naked.”

“It wasn’t the only time I was walking a half-naked you back to our dorm.” Vik adds, taking another long sip of his drink. It was some sort of a hot chocolate and cider concoction, and he wasn’t mad about it. 

“What was college like for you, Robert?” Craig suddenly asks, peeking over at him. He’s been pretty quiet this whole conversation, just occasionally laughing or cracking a smile. 

“I have no clue how I didn’t get expelled.” Robert snorts, leaning his body weight onto his other leg. This makes his shoulder rest against Vik’s, neither of them bothering to pull away. “I had to sneak out of the girl’s dorm so many times. I also did a lot of half-naked walks back to my dorm. I simultaneously remember a lot and nothing at all about college.”

“What was your roommate like?”

“His name was Johnny.” Robert starts, brows knitting together in upset. “We all called ‘im Johnny Boy. Was a real good kid. Put up with my shit well enough. Good grades, but still knew how to have a good time. I was never the same after that incident at the bonfire.”

“What happened?” Craig inquires, a little hesitant to prod but also undeniably curious.

“No one really knows.” Robert starts. “Every year the students would build this giant replica of the rival school’s mascot, and we’d set it on fire. Everyone would just get drunk and dance around it. Never had any issues. Johnny had been putting a lot of work into that mascot. Nobody is sure if it was an accident or what…”

Craig is just staring at Robert, leaning in slightly from the suspense of it all. Vik was trying not to laugh or give Robert away, just watching the man weave his tale. Vik was very aware of the fact that Robert never went to college, and that Johnny Boy had died at least six other times in other ridiculous and made up stories.

“Nobody saw Johnny Boy during the bonfire, which was weird. He was super excited for it. I just assumed he bragged about helping make it to some girl and was off getting some tail. But… The next day, when it was time to clear away the debris leftover… We found his body, all burnt up in the ash. Seemed like he had gotten trapped inside the mascot somehow. The police couldn’t figure it out and deemed it an accident but… Nah. There’s no way Johnny accidentally got trapped in that thing. Not possible. Someone would’ve had to have stuck him in it.”

“…Oh my god.” Craig finally manages, standing there for a long moment in discomfort. 

“Still haven’t the fuckin’ foggiest what really happened.” Robert mumbles, eyes downcast and cold. “Not sure we’ll ever know. Such a shame. He was a damn good kid. Really going places.”

Craig just stands there, hands cupped around his drink, completely silent. 

“Craig.” Vik starts, the other slowly turning his head away from Robert to look at him. “He’s fucking with you.”

Craig continues to stare for a moment, before letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh. Wow…” After a moment Craig makes an excuse to leave the two behind, giving Vik’s shoulder a friendly little pat as he left.

“Yeah, Craig and I never really figured out how to like.” Robert pauses for a moment, racking his brain for the right words. “Have a normal conversation. His little one likes me, though.”

Vik pauses at the mental image of Robert playing with River, and his heart beats out of rhythm for a moment over how cute that is. “You two have very different senses of humor.”

* * *

“Have either of you seen Mary?” Joseph’s voice comes from behind the two of them, gaining their attention. Joseph is wearing an antler headband and there’s a red dot colored on his nose. 

“No, I haven’t.” Vik admits, having to stop himself from laughing. It doesn’t work. “Joseph, that is a very good look on you.”

“Christie and I match.” Joseph states proudly, grinning wide. “Christian was matching for a while until he lost his headband.” His smile fades after a moment, sighing. “If either of you see Mary, just… Don’t let her do anything to make a scene. I’m sure she found more to drink than just the wine in my office.” He runs a hand through his blond locks, looking uncomfortable. 

Robert shifts next to Vik, making a face. He wants to say something, but someone else grabs hold of Joseph and diverts their attention. 

“Joseph, the Vega brat planted a bunch of those wire-pull smoke grenades behind the actors entertaining the kids. It’s actually kind of impressive how he set up some Rube Goldberg style machine to pull them all at once.”

“He’d be a genius if he would just apply himself.” Joseph says, letting out a low huff. “Were they full of paint?”

“Yup. Everything they touched is rainbow. The stage, the actors, some of the children. It didn’t help that one girl got really excited and jumped up on stage and began waving them around. All of the kids cheered and began bolting around the nave. Everything is a mess.”

“Did you get the girl’s name?”

“Didn’t have to ask. The kids were basically cheering ‘Amanda! Amanda!’ as they ran around her.”

Vik pauses for a moment, biting his lip. Joseph turns to look at him, and Vik sinks backwards towards Robert. “I am so sorry. I will help clean it up, okay? And I’ll make Amanda come and help.” 

Joseph reaches up to rub his temples, taking a deep breath. “Alright. It’s fine for now, okay? We will worry about it later. For now, please just. Find my wife.”

* * *

Robert is quiet as the two of them walk, but it’s not the usual silence. It feels uncomfortable. Vik chalks it up to nerves, considering this part of the church was rather dark and it left him feeling eerie. “Do you remember how to get to Joseph’s office?”

Robert nods his head, and picks up the pace to lead. Vik keeps up as best as he can, but it proves a struggle with Robert’s long legs giving him an advantage. “Robert, why are you going so fast?”

“Just wanna find her,” he mutters.

“We will, but I have short legs. I can’t keep up.”

Robert huffs, almost seeming a little annoyed. Vik instantly feels awful, despite knowing that it was a totally reasonable request. He frowns towards the ground as he follows behind Robert, and is thankful that the other at least slowed down for him. 

When they get to Joseph’s office, the light is on. It seems promising enough, at least. They open the door and sure enough, Mary is hanging out in his desk chair, nursing what appeared to be her second bottle of wine. “Lookie here, it’s my boys!” She grins, setting the wine bottle down and pushing herself up to her feet. “I’d like to introduce you both to my new best friend, Jesus.” 

Vik is about to inquire just how much she’s had to drink when she motions for them to look in another direction. Vik turns, eyes widening at the sight of the Jesus statue with a large purple dildo glued to its crotch. “…I can see why you like him, Mary.”

Mary barks a laugh, flopping back down into the wheelie chair and spinning in a lazy circle. “We think Ernest did that, and honestly? I want to take it home and keep it. The whole statue, not just the dick.”

Robert strides on over to Jesus, peering down at the toy and making a face. “And I thought I was a fuckin’ size queen. This is some Bad Dragon shit, right here.”

“Bad Dragon?”

“It’s a site where you can buy really big, fake alien dicks or something like that.” Mary snorts, kicking her feet up on her desk. “Dames showed it to me, and I showed it to Robert.”

“I bought everything they had in stock.” Robert jokes, cracking a smirk and kneeling down in front of the Jesus statue. “This thing is even scarier at this angle, jeez.”

“For the love of God,” Mary starts, leaning forward against Joseph’s desk and watching Robert. “Make this the best Christmas ever and suck Jesus’ dick. For me.”

“Birthday sex.” Vik blurts out without much thought, and Mary and Robert both lose it for a good minute. “As far as fitting that thing in your mouth, though, is that possible?”

“Definitely not all of it.” Robert shrugs, reaching up to grab the toy around the base and sinking his mouth down around half of it. He slows down at this point, carefully urging it further back until it was pressing against the entrance to his throat. He tried to go a little further, but started to gag and pulled back. “Three quarters of the way is pretty impressive, right?” He coughs a bit, shrugging. “I’m rusty.”

Mary is smirking from her seat, brows arched high on her face. “I bet Vik can do it. I watched him deepthroat a popsicle once.”

“I was so drunk.” Vik replies, but lets out a defeated sigh. “This is not how I pictured Christmas Eve, at all. Or my life, in general. But here I am, in a church, about to try and deepthroat Jesus Christ.”

Vik kneels down in front of Jesus, noting that his orthopedist would probably be mad if he messed up his knees doing this. Couldn’t stay down here too long, then. He takes a deep breath, before spitting in his hand and beginning to stroke the dildo as some form of mental preparation. Or, just to tease Robert, really.

“It’s not a real dick, Vik.” Mary points out from across the room, and Vik turns to give her a look.

“I’m not doing this to impress _you_ ,” he says, eyes meeting Robert’s for a moment, before going back to the toy. “I’m going to hell,” he declares to no one in particular, before leaning in and wrapping his mouth around the head of the toy. He sucks it in, slow and sweet, occasionally sticking his tongue out to run along the underside. Just a little glimpse of pink, to tease Robert. It seems to be working, because the other places a hand on the back of his thigh. 

“I’ll meet you there,” Robert murmurs, low enough that Mary probably can’t hear him. Vik ignores the little shiver that runs through him, sinking down to about the point where Robert had originally stopped. The toy was pressing against the back of his throat, and he urged his muscles to relax to the best of their ability. He pushed a little more, his throat contracting before relaxing yet again. He could totally do this, right?

The stretch isn’t completely unfamiliar, but it has definitely been a long while since he’s deepthroated anything to this extent. The angle isn’t much help either, but he’s full of a strong sense of determination. He gags a little bit as he’s down to the last inch, but doesn’t retract. It takes a moment for his muscles to relax, which is harder said than done. Robert’s becoming a bigger distraction as well, and Vik nearly gags again when one of the man’s large hands slides upwards and grips a handful of his ass. While he does stifle the gag, he certainly doesn’t hold back a moan. 

“Fuck, you are so close.” Robert murmurs, his breath hot against Vik’s ear. His other arm worms around him, sliding right up under Vik’s shirt and against his bare belly. “Is it too much?”

“Mrff,” Vik forgets he can’t speak for a moment, and instantly feels like an idiot. Before he does anything else to possibly ruin the moment, he goes back to the focus at hand. Or, at mouth, really. 

He pushes a little further, fighting back the urge to cough and the tears springing to his eyes. It isn’t until his nose bumps into the hilt of the dildo that he opens his eyes. Holy fuck, he made it. He had to resist the urge to throw his hands up in victory, but Robert’s roaming fingers were helping with that.

“Holy fuck,” Robert mutters, one of his hands kneading at Vik’s butt again and eliciting a muffled whimper around the toy in his mouth. “That is the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen.”

“Did you guys find her— Oh dear God!” 

Vik’s entire body tenses at the sound of Joseph’s surprise, and he pulls back as fast as he can. The back of his head collides with Robert’s nose, causing him to yelp in pain while Vik begins gagging. He pulls off the toy, coughing his lungs out while simultaneously trying to ask if Robert was okay and ignore the growing sense of embarrassment over what Joseph just saw. 

Mary, on the other hand, has deemed this situation the funniest thing she’s ever fucking seen. She’s cackling at the top of her lungs, sprawled out over Joseph’s desk and tears sprung in her eyes. “Oh my fucking god!! I’ve got to be dreaming because this is too good!”

When everyone is done being in pain, shock, or having a laughing fit, they all sit there in uncomfortable silence for a long minute. Joseph is the first to speak. “…Did you fit that…. Whole thing… In your mouth?”

“…Yeah.”

“I’m—” Joseph stammers, fumbles around for a moment with his hands, and then quickly backs out of the room and slams the door behind him.

* * *

He had no idea how to process exactly what he had just seen, struggling with the mixed emotions inside of him, as well as the sudden rush of blood flowing below his belt. He finds the nearest bathroom and locks himself inside, gripping the edges of the porcelain sink and staring at nothing in particular for long moment.

Joseph had a sense of humor. He wasn’t so far up his own ass that he couldn’t laugh at some things that other Christians might find offensive, like the Vega kid super gluing a sex toy to a statue of Jesus. However, he certainly hadn’t expected to walk into his office in search to find said sex toy buried several inches deep in Vik’s throat. 

He reaches up to yank at his collar and loosen it, feeling too warm and too confined inside his shirt all of the sudden. He swallows thickly, mind trailing back to the sight he had just witnessed. That toy had been _huge_ , and seeing all of it disappear down Vik’s throat had done something to him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His erection presses uncomfortably against the seam of his zipper, but he doesn’t reach down to adjust it yet.

And then Robert, knelt on the floor behind Vik, with that familiar look in his eyes and big hands squeezing a firm handful of Vik’s ass. Mary in the background, with cheeks flushed pink, watching them across the room. All of it brought back a rush that Joseph hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

He hisses softly as he yanks his zipper down, and hastily frees himself from the strain of fabric. _What are you doing?_ His brain inquires as he moves to press his back against the wall, staring downwards at the length of his own cock, flushed red and dripping from the swollen tip. He shouldn’t be getting off on this. This was _bad_. This was very, _very_ bad.

Shaking fingers grip at himself with guilt seeping deep into his heart but his brain fogged over with longing. What did he want? He hadn’t the slightest clue anymore. Everything. Nothing. Something. Anything. The list endlessly grew and shrunk and never settled into something realistic and healthy. He felt like his own expectations were simultaneously too high and too low all at once. 

“Why do I do this to myself…” Joseph quietly whispers as his back slides down the tiled wall, his fist stroking up and down himself at a quick pace. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he give in to temptation? To all the awful thoughts that swam through his head when he found himself alone and with nothing to occupy himself. _Isn’t it obvious?_ His own thoughts took a mocking tone, reverberating around his head like a growing migraine. _You’re a sinner._

He whines, low and deep in his own throat, tears stinging up in his own eyes. His hand stills around his cock, reaching his free one up to rub at his tired face. He needed to stop, to clean up and return to the party, to think of the church and the people downstairs and not the temptation just down the hall, doing only God knows what. 

He yanks himself to his feet, clambering over to the bathroom sink and hastily running some cold water over his hands. He washes his face in it, hoping to pull himself back to reality and further himself from his aching erection. He takes a little maneuvering, and it’s uncomfortable tucking it up underneath his belt to keep it from showing, but he reminds himself he deserves it for allowing this reaction in the first place. 

When he exits the bathroom, he doesn’t look back towards his office. He doesn’t think about Mary, or Robert, or Vik. Or Jesus, the statue, for that matter. He thinks about how late he’ll be stuck here, helping with the cleanup. He thinks about how his children will react to their gifts in the morning, and if Mary will be too hungover again this year to join them for present time. He thinks about how mundane and domestic his life is, and how much he should appreciate it. Many people don’t have half of what he has. 

_But you’ll never be satisfied, will you?_ He lingers on that thought for longer than he’d like to, deciding that the answer probably is no. He’s never been satisfied, and a few months ago he would’ve been able to genuinely say that he was alright with that. He would’ve been able to go through life, devoting his time to his church and his children endlessly, and it would’ve been alright. Now, though? 

Not a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry


End file.
